


Hamilton AU - Adulthood

by jemmymadison316



Series: Hamilton AU [4]
Category: Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton Has Anxiety, Angst, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Depression, F/M, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Foster Care, Friendship/Love, George Washington is a Dad, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, M/M, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-10-04 21:22:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 134
Words: 246,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmymadison316/pseuds/jemmymadison316
Summary: The final book in the Hamilton AU series.After a painful junior year of college, Alexander Hamilton is trying to put his life back together. Even though it has been months since the shooting and he's finished the first half of his senior year, he can't seem to recover. He doesn't know what the future holds if anything.Thomas Jefferson is in law school and doing his best to make a future for him and his boyfriend James Madison.  But are they ready for the next stage of their lives?James Madison has many fears and growing up is one of them. How can he handle "adulting" and living away from home when he's always sick and anxious? How is he supposed to feel like an accomplished adult when he can't accomplish the most basic tasks?It's been a strange time for Aaron Burr. He dropped out of college and has a decent job, at least one he enjoys even if the pay sucks for now. But what does the future hold? Can he ever find himself?*TRIGGER WARNING - the first 20 or so chapters have mentions of depressions, cutting, and suicide. Additional warnings will be placed on the chapters that are most graphic.*





	1. Chapter 1

Sprawled out asleep across his bed, Alexander Hamilton looked the picture of relaxation and peace, a far cry from the torment of his convoluted life.

His adopted father, George Washington, stood in the doorway of his room, regretful of having to wake him, especially with the news he had. Well, he couldn’t prevent it and it would put the last seven months behind them.

“Alexander.” Washington stroked his back. “Wake up.”

Hamilton groaned. “It’s winter break.” He pressed his face into his pillow. “I get to sleep.”

“I know, but the hospital called.”

He sat up at once and his blue-violet eyes widened. “He’s…”

“They’re pulling the plug.” He stroked his son’s messy red hair. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Hamilton nodded. “I need to put it behind me. Seeing him one last time will help.”

Washington didn’t argue and left him to get dressed.

Back in May—almost seven months ago—Thomas Stevens, Hamilton’s biological father, had shot him in the hip. As the deranged man tried to flee, he’d been hit by a car and cracked his skull open on the curb. He’d been in a coma since. The last few weeks he steadily deteriorated and his other son, Ned, had made the choice to take his father off life-support. He had instructed the hospital to notify Hamilton of the decision since he knew it was best to keep his own distance.

It was a quiet drive to the hospital. There, they were directed to Mr. Stevens’ room.

The hum of machines filled the small room, the scent of antiseptic thick and nauseating.

Hamilton approached the bed and stared at the man who had been a steady part of his life for the first thirteen years, although he had not known at that time he was his biological father. The man he thought had helped create him had disappeared when Hamilton was seven.

Through coincidence, Hamilton had found the Stevens again while on a weekend trip to New York City. He had been so excited to find his old friends and reconnect with them. He hadn’t seen them since Mr. Stevens got him off the Caribbean island where they lived and into foster care in the US at thirteen after his mother died. But Hamilton had moved through countless foster homes after that and lost touch. In the interim, Mr. Stevens had discovered Hamilton was his son.

While Washington still struggled to understand why Mr. Stevens hadn’t searched harder for Hamilton, especially since by the time he learned of the paternity Hamilton was an adult, to Hamilton that was less important since the Washington’s had adopted him by then. His wish had been to learn about his mother. A wish only party fulfilled.

But when Mr. Stevens started to harass them in the spring of Hamilton’s junior year of college that all soured and led to stalking, cryptic texts, and the eventual gunshot.

Hamilton looked at Washington where he remained by the door. “May I have a few minutes alone?”

“I’ll be right outside,” Washington said. He closed the door behind him.

Even though Mr. Stevens’ head remained wrapped and the left side of his face was a mess of scar tissue, Hamilton didn’t doubt this was the man who had created him. The man who shot him. The feminine jawline remained and a trace of the long nose. His eyes were closed but they would be the same blue-violet.

There was no point in saying anything to the Mr. Stevens. Not because Hamilton didn’t think he could hear but because he had nothing to tell him. Ned had reached out to him and Washington once after the coma and apologized. He explained that Mr. Stevens had been mentally ill since the long ago hurricane on the island had shattered his nerves. Seeing Hamilton had been a trigger and he stopped taking his meds and taking care of himself.

“By the time I realized,” Ned told them, “he was so distraught my only option was to get him admitted to a hospital. When I tried to do that, he disappeared.”

“What did he want to tell me?” Hamilton asked. The harassment had started when Mr. Stevens insisted to Washington via email that he had something of family importance to confide only to his son.

“I don’t know,” Ned said. “He never told me. To be honest, it was probably something he created in a delusion.”

That was the last they spoke.

Now, that was all over. Hamilton continued to stare at Mr. Stevens. How’s and why’s abounded in his mind but none of that mattered. It had taken him months to recover from the bullet wound to his hip. By fall of his senior year of college, he was able to get around enough to attend class but he stayed home rather than the dorms. Washington drove him back and forth, as he taught at the college, since Hamilton didn’t trust his leg not to seize up on the gas pedal.

That, too, was over now, as was the physical therapy. He could walk without a limp but he often woke stiff as the weather chilled. The dimpled scar would be a forever reminder of how fraught with chaos was his life.

He had no tears to shed over the man about to be declared dead. He hadn’t even intended the bullet for him but for Washington. And that scared Hamilton more than anything else did. What if it was Washington laying there? It was a real threat as Washington had been diagnosed with advanced coronary artery disease less than a year ago. At least the past few months had been about as stress free as life would get.

But still…

It was hard to shake off the pain and memories.

Hamilton turned away and left the room.

Washington pocketed his phone and rested a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

They returned home and Mrs. Washington made a comforting lunch of grilled cheese and ham sandwiches and homemade cookies for dessert. Her pack of little, old dogs followed her around the kitchen.

Hamilton picked up his favorite, a fat Chihuahua named Potato who only loved him and Mrs. Washington. Her warm, little body contoured to his as her bulging brown eyes watched the world from a higher perch.

“How was it?” Mrs. Washington asked.

“I don’t know,” Hamilton said. “But I’m glad it’s all over.”

“You’ll get a fresh start in the spring,” Washington said. “Do you still want to return to the dorms?”

“Yes,” Hamilton said. While staying at home definitely had its perks, it would be good to be on his own again and more active on campus. As the only remaining member of Team Jemmy, Hamilton had skipped debate for the fall semester but decided he’d have the time and energy to try out again in the spring. Maybe he’d be able to get back on a team with his best friend, John Laurens.

Plus, he knew his boyfriend wanted to get out of Mount Vernon where he’d dutifully remained to help with Hamilton’s care while he worked downtown as a temp agent for a law firm.

“Are you sure you won’t end up spending your nights with Aaron?” Washington asked. He’d already helped Aaron Burr pick out his apartment and he would move in another two weeks.

“I’m sure,” Hamilton said but didn’t go into details on the distance he and Burr had been feeling in their relationship. While the same age, Burr had opted to drop out after his junior year and get a job. He had access to the trust fund his parents left him and he wanted to use that money on an apartment rather than more schooling. Hamilton planned to continue on to law school and still hoped for NYC. Not long ago he assumed Burr would move with him but now he had his doubts. They had different levels of ambition, different goals for the future. “I can room with John again.”

Washington nodded. He tried to stay out of his son’s romantic life and not let it frustrate him but sometimes it was hard to understand what went on in that brain. But years of fostering troubled boys had him honed in on that type of behavior of shunning commitment and looking for a way out when things grew difficult or uncomfortable rather than searching out the root cause. Finding a solution that his boy would listen to, though, wouldn’t be possible.

“Remember,” Mrs. Washington broke in, “we have Lafayette and Adrienne’s engagement party this weekend.” While they had never adopted Lafayette, he had been their longest foster and considered him their son just as Hamilton saw him as a brother.

“I can’t believe he’s getting married,” Hamilton said and set Potato down to get ready to eat. “He’s so dumb.”

“I thought that was your goal, too?” Washington said. “Didn’t you want children?”

“Yeah, but he’s only twenty-one.” Hamilton filled a glass with water. “I’ll be twenty-two soon and that’s still too young.”

“Indeed,” Washington agreed. He hadn’t questioned Lafayette’s decision, though, and knew they didn’t plan to marry for at least another year. Lafayette—while also a foster child—had gotten stability a lot younger in life and didn’t carry the same immaturity Hamilton did. “Promise you won’t give an embarrassing speech.”

Hamilton smirked. “I can’t promise that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go sledding.

No longer having the same college schedule and no jobs, the squad found it harder to all get together to hang out. Life finally permitted on a Sunday afternoon and they met at the best sledding hill in the Estates.

“I’m only agreeing to this if we get hot chocolate afterward,” Hamilton said as he trudged through the snow bundled to the point he could barely move. His plastic sled bumped against his boots as he walked.

“We will,” assured his friend, Thomas Jefferson. He dragged his boyfriend James Madison behind in a sled.

Burr brought up the rear with another sled. He headed up the hill first while Jefferson caught his breath and Hamilton complained about the cold.

“Keep moving and you’ll warm up,” Jefferson told him. He turned to his boyfriend. “Get out. I’m not pulling you up the hill.”

Madison struggled to get off the sled with any grace and rolled into the snow in his puffy purple parka. His friends watched him in amusement and refused to help as he struggled to his feet. “I want to see you guys manage that any better,” he grumbled and headed up the hill.

About a year ago, he’d suffered a stroke that compromised his lungs. A few weeks later, an asthma attack almost took his life. He’d been on oxygen for a month afterward and in a wheelchair for almost a year as he regained his strength. It had only been a few weeks ago that he no longer needed it even after a long day.

Hamilton and Jefferson followed him up and overtook him halfway up. Jefferson swung his boyfriend into his arms and got him to the top.

“Who’s going to ride double?” Burr asked.

“I probably shouldn’t,” Jefferson said. At 6’2, he towered over his short friends with Burr the next tallest at barely 5’8. “Alexander and Jemmy can.”

“Yay,” Madison said. He got back on his sled and Hamilton sat behind him.

Jefferson pushed them close to the edge of the slope. “Do not hit a tree,” he commanded.

“Don’t tempt me,” Hamilton replied. He pushed them the rest of the way and wrapped his arms around Madison as they picked up speed.

Madison squealed as they zoomed down the packed snow. There were only a few trees that posed a threat and they almost hit one but Hamilton managed to turn the sled and coast them to a safe stop.

Burr shot past them and stopped a few feet further.

They looked back to see Jefferson stuck in a snowbank after his sled hit some fluffy snow and sank.

“Good job, T!” Madison called to him. He rolled out of the sled and got to his feet.

Hamilton fell on his butt as he stood and managed to look pathetic enough for Burr to help him.

Everyone went down again but Hamilton remained behind as his friends trudged uphill for a third run. He sat in the snow and made a pitiful snowman about a foot tall.

“Cold?” Jefferson questioned after he bailed out of his sled nearby to avoid hitting a tree.

“Tired.”

“We can go get hot chocolate.” He crawled in the snow toward him. “I don’t want Jemmy to overexert himself.” He turned away at the sound of his boyfriend shrieking on his way down alone.

Once he and Burr made it to the bottom of the hill, Jefferson and Hamilton stood and headed toward them.

“Time to take a break,” Jefferson said and picked up the rope on Madison’s sled. He led the way to where he’d parked his truck along the side of the road. Sleds, wet snow pants and coats were thrown in the truck bed under the cover and everyone piled into the cab.

Jefferson drove to a cafe located in a small shopping center outside the Estates.

The boys ordered drinks and snacks and found a table.

Madison licked whipped cream off his hot chocolate and watched Hamilton. “How come you didn’t get a snack?”

“Wasn’t hungry,” said Hamilton as his lips flattened into a firm line. He stirred his drink and blew on a spoonful.

“You can have half my cookie.” Madison broke his giant cookie in half.

“I said I wasn’t hungry, James,” he snapped.

“Hey, don’t yell at James,” Burr scolded and reached toward his boyfriend.

Hamilton pushed his hand away.

Jefferson intervened. “Leave him alone.”

“He’s crabby because he’s hungry,” Burr said. He pushed his plate of apple pie toward Hamilton. “Have a bite.”

“I’m fine.” Hamilton got up from the table and headed to the bathroom, boots thumping against the tile floor. He locked a stall and scratched at a spot on his arm until it was raw.

When he returned to the table, no one spoke. He sipped his now almost-cold drink while his friends finished their snacks in silence. Afterward, Jefferson drove them home.

At Mount Vernon, Burr and Hamilton grabbed their winter gear and sleds from the back of the truck.

Once inside, Hamilton left everything by the door, ran upstairs to his room, and slammed the door. Burr followed suit.

The noise brought Washington out of his office and he discovered the pile of wet winter gear and two sleds on the floor by the front door. “Boys!” he shouted. “Put your stuff away.”

The door closest to the stairs opened and Burr dragged himself down. He hung his coat, put the gloves and hat away in the cubbies in the entryway. Snow pants went in the laundry room. Last, he carried one sled to the garage.

While Burr did that, Washington knocked on Hamilton’s door.

At the sound, Hamilton quickly pulled his sleeve down to hide the second raw mark on his arm. “What?”

“May I come in?” Washington asked.

Hamilton opened the door.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Hamilton said.

Washington gave him a pointed look. “Your angry entrance was not nothing.”

“I just want to be left alone.” Hamilton rested a hand over his stinging arm.

“Then put your stuff away first.”

With a loud grumble, Hamilton stomped downstairs and threw everything where it was supposed to go and dragged his sled back to the garage leaving a trail of dirty water.

It wasn’t worth a fight and Washington cleaned up the floor while Hamilton slammed his bedroom door.

About an hour later, Burr left his room and shuffled across the wood floor in his socks to Hamilton’s room. He knocked on the door.

“What?” Hamilton asked in the same peeved tone as before.

“May I come in?”

“Fine.”

Hamilton put aside his laptop as Burr opened the door.

Burr sat on the edge of the bed and picked at his fingernails. “How’re you feeling?”

“I believe you described it once as wanting to sleep all the time,” Hamilton replied.

“It’s understandable that you’re depressed.” Burr scooted further onto the bed. “Considering everything—”

“Everything that happened in May,” Hamilton exploded. “It’s fucking January, Aaron! Why am I not better?”

Burr caressed his cheek. “That doesn’t matter. You spent the summer in recovery for a gunshot, you had to do physical therapy, then you went back to college. You’ve been pushing your emotions back for months. Now you’ve had a chance to realize everything that happened. It’s understandable.”

Hamilton shook his head. “I wish we never went to NYC.”

“Same,” Burr said but he knew his reasons were different. He knew that trip was when he’d for sure fallen in love with Hamilton. If they could erase that trip so much shit might not have happened or at least gone better. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“I guess.”

They headed downstairs and sat on the couch. While they sat next to each other and shared a blanket, they didn’t snuggle and remained lost in their own worlds.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Engagement party.

**CHAPTER THREE**

“I don’t care what you wear,” Burr groaned as he watched Hamilton lay out half his clothes on the bed to decide how to dress for the engagement party. “You look good in anything except orange.”

“I need to look adult,” Hamilton said. “I’m older than Laf. I need to look it.”

“Babe, you’re 5’7, you will never look older than Lafayette.” He kissed his boyfriend’s cheek. He picked up a purple plaid shirt. “This doesn’t look terrible on you.”

“No.” Hamilton tossed it aside. He picked up a black mock-neck sweater. “Yes?”

“Depends what it looks like on you.” Burr studied the shirt. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in black other than a suit.”

Hamilton unzipped his hoodie and set it on the bed. He pulled on the sweater and looked at Burr for approval.

“Classy,” Burr said. “What’re you going to do with your hair? I still can’t believe Washington hasn’t taken a scissor to it in the middle of the night.”

Hamilton shrugged and brushed back the stray pieces that always fell in his face of his almost shoulder-length hair. “I’ll do a ponytail or something.” He put his clothes back in the closet. “How’s work?”

Burr’s face lit up. “It’s really good. I should have an official title soon. It won’t be a temp job anymore. Mr. Prevost likes my dedication. He might even move me to his new office.”

“That’s great, Aaron.” Hamilton managed a smile. “I need to talk to you about law school.” He turned away and focused all his attention on his closet.

“Did you get accepted?” Burr asked. He stood and took the hangers out of Hamilton’s hands.

“I haven’t heard yet,” Hamilton admitted. “But I can’t imagine I won’t. I won’t turn it down if it happens.”

Burr hung up the shirts and wrapped his arms around Hamilton’s waist. He watched his boyfriend’s face and the way he struggled to make eye contact. “You need to go to NYC, Alex. I know you love Mount Vernon but you need to get away. If I can get a job there that’s comparable to what I have, I’ll go with you but I’m not crazy about the idea of renting an apartment there.”

“I understand.” A touch to his chin made him look up and he found the concern in Burr’s dark hazel eyes.

“You lost your confidence after Mr. Stevens entered your life,” Burr said. He moved his hand against Hamilton’s cheek. “I want you to get that back. I’ve been worried I’m draining your confidence, too.”

Hamilton lowered his gaze again, his non-answer agreeing with Burr’s statement. “I’ve been depressed.”

“I know.” Burr brushed his hair back. “It’s okay. But try to find a smile for Lafayette.” He stepped away. “Finish getting ready.”

Alone in his room, Hamilton changed his jeans and dug out his nicer boots from his closet. In the bathroom, he combed out his hair and tied it back in a messy bun. He could only stand to look at himself in the mirror with quick glances. If he looked too long, he could see Mr. Stevens. If he could see Mr. Stevens, he could hear the gun crack. If he could hear the gun crack, he could see the tears in his parent’s eyes as he was rushed into surgery.

Unconsciously, his fingers sought out the phoenix medallion he always wore under his shirt. It had been a gift from Jefferson on his twenty-first birthday. He hadn’t taken it off in months, not even to shower or sleep. He clutched it under his clothes and took a deep breath. Burr was right about his shattered confidence and remaining in stasis with him wasn’t a helpful solution.

Burr was in the kitchen when Hamilton headed downstairs. “You look nice.”

“I don’t want to go,” Hamilton said. He pulled out a chair at the table and sat. He looked at Burr and said the words he hated to say. “I know you and I aren’t end game. I’m never going to have what Lafayette and Adrienne do and I don’t want to see their love for each other.”

“Ouch.” Burr dried his hands on a towel hanging from the oven handle. “Then break up with me because your attitude is getting rather annoying and I can only take so much of your shit, Alexander. You can’t use your depression as a means of being a jerk. You’ve called me out on that before.”

“I guess it’s over then.” Hamilton stood and left the kitchen. But he got no further than the stairs where his parents were on their way down.

“Ready?” Washington asked.

“I’m not going.” Hamilton tried to move past him and Washington grabbed the back of his sweater.

“Lafayette’s your brother. You can smile for a few hours. Get in the car.”

His jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth but he didn’t argue. He got in the backseat of the Cadillac with Burr, the two not looking or speaking to each other.

The party was at Lafayette’s small apartment he shared with his best friend Hercules Mulligan. Crowded in were college friends of his and Adrienne’s.

Hamilton knew a few and made a beeline toward Jefferson. They had been nemesis upon first meeting but once Washington decided his debate team was going to win and forced them to hang out, the friendship had grown. “No James?” Hamilton asked.

“Sick,” Jefferson said.

“When is he not?”

“No shit.” Jefferson handed over his cup. “I don’t know what this is but I’m almost buzzed.”

Hamilton took a sip. “Getting drunk sounds like a good idea.”

Jefferson scanned the crowd and spotted Burr talking to Mulligan. “You broke up.”

“Yup.” Hamilton took another drink. “Apparently, I’m a moody shit.”

“I’m sorry, bud.”

Hamilton drained the cup. “Whatever.” He crushed it in his fist. “Fuck him.”

Whatever was in that cup didn’t have the effect Hamilton wanted and he spent the rest of the party hiding in Lafayette’s room fighting down a panic attack while he stared at his phone.

Washington found him on the floor chewing on his fingernails. “Ready to go?”

Hamilton jumped up and sped past Washington.

“Tell you brother—” The front door slammed before he could finish the sentence.

“I’m not offended,” Lafayette said. “He’s having a rough time.”

Washington patted him on the shoulder. “You’re a good boy, Laf.” He kissed his son’s cheek.

Mrs. Washington hugged him and Adrienne and followed her husband outside.

Burr dragged behind and got in the backseat.

***

Thanks to generous cash gifts from his mom and his boyfriend’s parents for his graduation, Jefferson had enough for a down payment on an apartment and found a studio over the summer. It was cheap enough to afford on his meager school term salary when he could only work minimal hours. During last summer, he had worked six days a week at Mr. Madison’s law firm downtown, a short drive from the apartment. He saved everything he could and now that he was back in school, he didn’t struggle too terribly.

Jefferson loved having his own place but his boyfriend whined about it from the start.

“You’ll save more money by staying at Montpelier,” Madison told him.

Jefferson kissed him and firmly told him no. He didn’t want to continue living with his boyfriend’s parents.

Madison fussed at him through the summer about how he was further away from him than ever before, a twenty-five-minute drive. How there was now no reason for him to ever stay over. How they would never see each other.

With the continued resistance, Jefferson finally relented to spending Saturday night at Montpelier and made Madison somewhat complacent.


	4. Chapter 4

Washington helped Burr move out the next weekend, which was a relief to everyone. The boys hadn’t fought but an icy chill filled the house even when they weren’t around each other.

Since Adrienne was moving in with Lafayette soon, she gave Burr her bed, dresser, and nightstand. Mrs. Washington went through the closets of Mount Vernon and found him all the bedding and towels he would need. In the kitchen, she found enough duplicates to get him started. After thirty plus years of marriage, she had acquired more dishes than needed and gave him a full set of plates, bowls, and cups—which she had done for Lafayette and still had another set for Hamilton.

The studio apartment was even smaller than Jefferson’s was but in a nice building within walking distance to work, a huge plus since he didn’t drive.

The furniture had been brought over the day before. Washington helped unload the few boxes. “I know things are tense right now,” he said, “but I don’t want you to be a stranger to Mount Vernon.” He patted Burr’s back. “Martha and I don’t choose sides nor do we blame you for the breakup.”

“Thank you, sir.” Burr picked at his sleeve.

“Don’t hesitate to ask if you need any help. Getting out on your own for the first time can be scary.” He pointed to a box on the kitchen counter. “I got you a safe. Keep your saving and important documents in there so you don’t lose them. Make sure you save something from every paycheck, even if it’s only a few dollars, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

Washington rested his strong, warm hands on Burr’s shoulders. “Make sure you take care of yourself. And I mean it; don’t hesitate if you need anything.”

Burr nodded. “Thank you.”

Washington kissed his forehead. “Take care, Aaron.”

“You, too, sir.” Burr saw him out and locked the door. He stared around the small room and went to work unpacking his few belongings.

He soon had the bed made and towels put away. Clothes were next and everything fit in the dresser. Two more boxes held his miscellaneous stuff, mostly books and some stuffed animals. Washington had given him a bookcase and it was soon half-filled. The stuffed animals went on top of his dresser.

His shoulders drooped when he came across the bear Hamilton had given him last year. Looking back, he could see that the relationship hadn’t been great even at that point. He never should have pursued Hamilton after he abandoned him without an explanation after his sister passed away. But he had craved the familiarity they had, but none of this would have happened if he had just realized their friendship was strong enough. That he hadn’t needed to push Hamilton into something he wasn’t sure of just to keep him close.

He stuffed the bear he had named after his sister Sadie in the bottom drawer of his dresser.

He tossed the empty box in the corner near the front door and turned his attention to the kitchen. First, he unlocked the safe and found two envelopes already inside, one marked _savings_ and the other _groceries_. He opened _groceries_ first and found two-hundred dollars.

“Thank you, Washington,” he murmured. He opened the next one. “Shit.” He counted out the hundreds with growing disbelief. One thousand dollars. He grabbed his phone and sent Washington a thank you text. Shaking, he added his own meager savings to the envelope and felt a little weight release from his shoulders with the knowledge he had something in case of an emergency.

The grocery money went into his wallet since he would need to take care of that very soon. He opened the fridge to see what kind of space he had and stared in amazement. Food already filled it. Milk, eggs, butter, lunchmeat and cheese, juice, baby carrots, a few packaged lunches. The freezer was also full: chicken, beef, TV dinners, pizza, breakfast sandwiches, vegetables.

Excited, he opened the cupboards and found them stocked as well with bread, peanut butter, crackers, canned goods, pasta, chips.

He sent another thank you text to Washington and more weight lifted off his shoulders. Stocking the cupboards the first time, he knew, would get pricey and a challenge when he had no means of transportation. But a weekly trip to the store was doable and less costly when he’d only need to pick up a few things as he ran out.

The world seemed a brighter place and he contemplated texting Hamilton.

 _No_ , he told himself; _give it a few days at least._

He glanced around his apartment and wondered what to do now. He had no TV or any electronic except for his almost obsolete smartphone. Washington had offered to buy him an iPad or laptop for Christmas but Burr had declined. While he almost regretted that now, that family had done more than enough for him as it was. He would get by without the latest technology as he always had.

 

As he returned home, Washington grabbed the mail. On top of the stack was a letter to Hamilton from the NYC law school. The temptation to open it was almost too great and he quickly tossed the letter on the passenger seat.

He pulled into the garage and headed inside the house. “Alexander, come down here.”

Hamilton dragged himself into the kitchen. “What?”

Washington handed him the letter.

“I can’t.” Hamilton dropped it on the kitchen table. “I can’t take any more rejection.”

“It might be good news,” Washington said. “Isn’t it better to know and get it over with?”

“No.” Hamilton stared at the envelope. “Right now I have hope.”

“Open it, Alexander.”

Hamilton opened the envelope in jagged lines and pulled out the letter. “Fuck!” He threw it on the floor and stormed out.

Washington grabbed his arm. “It’s not the end of the world, son. You can—”

“Shut up!” Hamilton shouted. “I don’t give a fuck. Leave me alone!”

“You do not speak to me like that, Alexander,” Washington growled. “There are other options for law school.”

“I don’t care!” Hamilton yanked his arm free. “My life is over.”

“Settle down.”

“Fuck. Off.”

All the tantrums Hamilton had thrown over the years, Washington had managed to keep his cool but right now, it took all his willpower not to backhand him across the face or smack him on the bottom. “Go to your room until you can act like an adult.”

Hamilton opened his mouth, anger burning in his eyes but whatever horrible things he wanted to spew forth in his temper, he swallowed back and ran upstairs.

Washington listened to the door slam and picked up the rejection letter. He sighed and wondered how the school had even rejected his son. His grades were almost perfect and he had great debate records. Jefferson had been accepted last year and his grades weren’t as high as Hamilton’s were. He had declined, though, in favor of staying close to home and his boyfriend. He went to the local law school downtown. It wasn’t a prestigious top-five school but the classes were small and dedicated. Washington was pleased with what Jefferson had accomplished in his first term and by no means was his education stunted. But trying to get Hamilton to see that that school was an option would take a miracle. He had dreams and ambitions far bigger than he could handle.

It didn’t take long for Hamilton to creep downstairs and apologize. “But what am I supposed to do now?” he asked. They sat in Washington’s office at the large desk where many conversations had taken place over the years.

“You apply to another school,” Washington said. “You can go to the local school for a year and apply again to NYC. Or you can apply to other law schools. You could try Virginia or maybe you want to look into schools on the west coast.”

“No, too far,” Hamilton vetoed at once. “I feel like I have nothing going for me anymore.” He rested his head on his arms folded on the desk. “Like my life peaked at nineteen and twenty and now it’s over.”

Washington couldn’t help but chuckle. “Trust me, boy, you’ll discover many peaks and low points in life. Your life isn’t over already. Mine peaked again just a few years ago. It comes and goes.” He rubbed Hamilton’s head. “Has your therapist said anything about taking antidepressants?”

Hamilton nodded.

“Have you thought about it?”

“Yes.” Hamilton lifted his head and sat back. “I don’t want to become like Mr. Stevens. Do you think mental illness does run in the family?” He struggled to make eye contact and focused on the desk.

Washington watched him and a pang of sadness settled in his chest that Hamilton had lost all the arrogance and confidence he’d had as a teen. “It’s possible but it doesn’t mean you’ll become like him.”

“I hate it.” Hamilton’s voice cracked. “I’m already on anxiety meds. How medicated do I need to be to function?”

“Wouldn’t you rather feel better?” Washington took Hamilton’s hands and rubbed the chilled fingers between his.

“I guess.” He swallowed. “Yes. I don’t want to be like Mr. Stevens.”

“You went through a major trauma. It’s understandable if you need extra help to get through it,” Washington assured and repeated, “It doesn’t mean you’ll become like him.”

“Okay.”

“Good boy.” Washington let go of his hands and leaned back in his chair. “Can we talk about your hair?”

“Nope.” Hamilton brushed the messy bangs out of his face. “I like it. It’s still growing out.”

“If you say so.” He smiled. “Skedaddle so I can work.”

Hamilton got up but paused at the door. “Did you get Aaron moved in?”

“I did, son.” Washington watched him. “Call him in a few days, okay? I know he’s still your friend even if dating didn’t work out.”

Hamilton nodded and closed the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison goes to work.

Jefferson thrived in law school. It was tough but there were fewer distractions than at college. The only thing he disliked was not having Washington around. Washington had been his teacher in high school and had returned as a college professor in his sophomore year. Any problem that came up, he knew he had someone to turn to that would care. Whether Washington could solve it or not hadn’t mattered as much as being heard.

Now, he had to pave his own way with unknown teachers and try to find the one that would care. So far, he hadn’t and instead, Mr. Madison became his sounding board for any issue that arose.

Jefferson worked at his future father-in-law’s law firm either in the morning or afternoon four days a week during term and his first stop was always to check in with Mr. Madison before he tucked himself away in his office to do rather tedious paperwork. The job was more of a favor to him than a real job. He took the overflow of work from Mr. Madison and his secretary, work that didn’t require a strict deadline that he could manage while in school. When time permitted, he would have a real job in the firm and for now, he tried not to let the obvious nepotism knock down his confidence.

“I have a presentation tomorrow,” Jefferson told Mr. Madison a few weeks into the spring semester, which started almost back to back to the fall semester without a month break like college. “It’s at eleven. I was wondering if you could come?” He stared at his fingers.

“Not a problem,” Mr. Madison said.

Jefferson’s posture relaxed. “Thank you. I want you to see what how I could improve. It’s a mock court case and I’ve been told I don’t project enough toughness or something.”

Mr. Madison chuckled. “I don’t know if you can do that, Thomas. Is that what your professors have said?”

“Yeah, but they don’t know me well enough to really tell me what exactly I do is wrong.”

“I see.” Mr. Madison fiddled with a pen. “I’ll see what I can offer.”

 

To Mr. Madison, the problem was obvious at once. Jefferson was used to trying to make himself appear unintimidating, as a 6’2, muscular black man. It had been trained in him to stand to the side so his size didn’t overwhelm anyone. He’d been told never to raise his voice to risk scaring someone. Now was his chance to let the power of his presence speak for him.

“Watch your posture,” Mr. Madison advised him after the presentation. “You stand sideways a lot; face whomever you’re speaking to square on. Don’t be afraid to raise your voice, every court case is like a debate. I know you know how to use the power of your voice. Do the same in court.”

Jefferson nodded. “Thank you.” He looked down at the short, stout, balding man. “I don’t think my white professors wanted to tell their black student that.”

“Then the school has failed you and they need a black professor.” He studied his son’s boyfriend. “Perhaps after some time as a lawyer, you’ll think about teaching.”

Jefferson chewed his lip in thought. “Perhaps, I will.”

***

When his father got home that night, Madison watched him until he was alone and asked, “Is there any work I could do for you?”

“Such as?” Mr. Madison asked. He sat on the couch to watch TV and relax for an hour before he helped his eight-month pregnant wife get the kids ready for bed. Last year, Mrs. Madison had lost a baby a few months into the pregnancy and everyone held their breath for this one to be healthy.

“At your law firm.” Madison picked at his nails.

“Hmm.” He rubbed at the growing bald spot on his head. “Well, right now I have Thomas doing my overflow along with a few cases but I might be able to find something for you a few hours a week. I assume that’s all you’d want to work?”

Madison nodded. He didn’t want to work at all but as his friends graduated college and entered the workforce, a pressure to achieve anything himself built up. He was the youngest of the group at twenty and looked closer to fourteen. That youthful appearance and everyone thinking he was, indeed, younger stole his confidence in ever being taken seriously. His precarious health made long hours of work difficult but he needed to do something to boost his self-esteem.

“I can’t put you on the payroll,” Mr. Madison said and watched his delicate, long-haired son. “But I can find something to get you started.”

“Thank you.”

Mr. Madison picked up the remote and turned on the TV. “Have Mom drop you off on her way to the doctor tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He looked at the TV. “What’re you going to watch?”

Mr. Madison handed him the remote. “Whatever you want.” He patted the spot next to him.

Madison couldn’t remember if he had ever watched TV with his dad, or honestly, spent much one-on-one time with him, besides in the hospital, which hardly counted as bonding time. While he did take up the most time of both his parents, it was always due to one health crisis or another. He took a seat and found the home show network he knew his dad enjoyed. They watched for an hour and cringed at the locations and bemoaned the houses people chose.

 

In the morning, Mrs. Madison dropped her eldest son off at the law firm and headed to her nearby doctor appointment. But wrangling all the children always took longer than anticipated and she didn’t have time to make sure he found Mr. Madison’s office.

It had been years since Madison had been in his father’s law firm and grew sweaty and shaky as he stood in the lobby with no clue where to go. He stared at the signs through blurry eyes as he heard the receptionists whispering to each other.

“Is that a boy or girl?” one asked the other.

The other woman giggled.

Spotting the sign for an elevator, Madison hurried out of the lobby as a tightness settled in his chest. He jammed his finger into the button and sighed with relief when the door closed him inside.

But now his watery eyes glazed over the multitude of floors from which to choose. He guessed his mom had assumed he had a basic idea of how to find Mr. Madison’s office. He could call her or his dad but a resolve settled in his mind. He would do this himself. He hit the button for the fourth floor.

But when the doors opened and he was greeted by phones ringing, people talking and moving about on a mission, his courage failed and he called Jefferson. “I’m lost,” he squeaked.

“Where’re you at?” Jefferson asked.

“Fourth floor.”

“You want the seventh. I’ll meet you at the elevator.”

Heart pounding, Madison got back in the elevator and pressed the seven. When the doors reopened and he saw Jefferson, the tension in his body relaxed and he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

Jefferson kissed the top of his head. “Come on.” He led the way. This floor was much quieter. They turned left and Jefferson opened the door at the end of the hall. He pushed Madison inside and closed the door.

Mr. Madison’s office had a few bookshelves, several comfortable chairs, his desk, and a multitude of family pictures on the wall, including 12x12 pictures of each cat.

“There you are,” he said. “Come here.”

Madison moved around the desk and took his dad’s chair.

Mr. Madison showed him the spreadsheet he needed filled out and explained what to put where.

The last anxious shake left him as Madison typed. He could do this. Computing was a piece of cake.

Mr. Madison checked his work ten minutes later and shook his head. “That’s not what I said.” He indicated to the papers in front of Madison from which he was inputting. “Double check what you’re doing. These are all off.”

Madison rubbed his eyes. He deleted his columns and started over. But now the pressure was on. His fingers fumbled over the numbers and he had to retype half of what he wrote.

Mr. Madison sighed when he checked again. “Jemmy, you’re not paying attention.”

“I can’t do pressure,” Madison whimpered.

“There is no pressure to do this, Jem.” He squeezed his son’s shoulders. “Try again and take your time. I have a meeting and I’ll be back in about an hour.”

As soon as the door closed, Madison texted Jefferson, _I can’t do this._

Jefferson showed up a few minutes later. He looked over what Madison was attempting and drew lines down the paper. “Does that help?”

Madison glanced at the paper, then the computer. “Huh.”

“Your brain gets going too fast sometimes.” He ran his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “Don’t try to speed read this stuff, at least not until you know what’re you’re doing.”

Madison took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Do your best.”

“Don’t go.” Madison caught his shirt before he could get out of reach. “Stay.”

“I can’t, babe.” Jefferson kissed his fingers. “I have to leave for class soon.”

His big blue eyes looked up too sweet and innocent. “I love you.”

Jefferson kissed his lips. “I love you, too, but I still have class.” He extricated himself from his boyfriend’s grasp and made it out of the office.

Those days became the best at the office for Jefferson. A brief reprieve from the stress of working and going to school; a reminder of why he did it. It didn’t matter that Madison “helping out” became more or less limited to him getting in the way and spilling coffee. But he was out of the house for a few hours a week and interacting in a new environment.

A few days later, Jefferson looked up when the door to his office opened. “Hey, Jemmy.”

Madison skipped in. “Look!” He showed off the rainbows he’d painted on his nails. “Nelly and I have been practicing all week.”

“Looks great, Jem.” He leaned over his desk to kiss him. “Maybe we should get you into beauty school.”

Madison made a face. “No more school. I can’t handle it.”

“Come here.” He got the smile to return to his boyfriend’s face as he cuddled him. “Can you do some filing for me?”

“No?” Madison’s bright blue eyes met his with a perfect ingenuousness.

“I see, well…” He tickled his boyfriend until he squealed and promised he would work.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Cutting
> 
> A new Madison arrives.

“Jemmy.” Mr. Madison touched his son’s forehead to wake him a quarter after six. “Jemmy.”

Madison grumbled and covered his head with his baby blanket.

“Mom is having contractions.” He pulled the blanket from his son’s face. “We’re going to the hospital.”

Madison rubbed his sleepy eyes. “Is she okay?”

“She’s about a month early but all you children have tended to do that.” Mr. Madison stroked his eldest child’s face. “We’re not concerned. I’ve already woken Ambrose. The two of you will need to get the younger ones ready for school. Martha will take them.”

“Okay.” He stopped a yawn and rolled out of bed.

“Good boy.” Mr. Madison patted his shoulder and left the room. He stopped at the door. “Oh, Alexander will help watch Bess.”

“Good.” Madison sighed with relief.

He and Ambrose hurried William and Sarah through getting dressed while Nelly changed Bess. Breakfast was frozen waffles thrown in the toaster and eaten on paper towels.

The older boys not used to getting their younger siblings ready and the younger children used to having their mom smooth everything along barely had them ready to go when Mrs. Washington pulled up the driveway.

Ambrose—forgetting that he had to go to school himself—stalled the process as he had to run back upstairs to get his backpack at the last minute.

The children raced outside while Hamilton went inside.

“I’m going back to bed,” Madison told him.

“You do that, little duck.” Hamilton tapped his nose. “Where’s Bess?”

“No idea. Ambrose had her last.”

Hamilton found the toddler in the kitchen crawling under the table but she scooted out at once when he saw her favorite babysitter.

“Lecks!” She pulled herself up using the kitchen bench and wobbled toward him.

“Well, look at you!” Hamilton praised. Time had gotten away from him after the incident and he had forgotten how big and grown-up the baby now was.

“Big!” She held out her arms.

Hamilton picked her up and she grabbed his nose. “You better not have been referring to my nose, little lady,” he teased.

She smiled showing all her perfect baby teeth. “Bug!”

“The hell there better not be.”

“’Ell!”

Hamilton groaned. “Well, shit.” His eyes widened and he clapped a hand over Bess’ mouth. “Do not repeat. I am so sorry.”

Bess giggled and tugged at his ear. “Butt!”

“I did not teach you that one.” He carried the toddler upstairs to the playroom and joined her multitude of games.

It was close to noon before Madison got himself back up and joined them. “I’m hungry.”

“And?” Hamilton questioned.

“Can you make chicken nuggets?” he pleaded.

“Oh, I suppose.” Hamilton turned to Bess and stopped her from putting a block in her mouth. “Are you hungry, too, Bess?”

“Eat!” Bess poked a finger in his mouth.

By two-thirty, the peace ended when Mrs. Washington brought the children home from school. Normally, the Madison children were quiet but their mom having a baby wound them up and they talked and squabbled over each other while Hamilton made them a snack.

“I can stay, dear,” Mrs. Washington said as she stopped William from pouring his own glass of milk.

“It’s fine,” Hamilton said as he sliced apples. “How is Mrs. Madison?”

“Almost dilated enough.”

“TMI.” He studied the knife.

Nelly butted in. “I want to go to the hospital with you, Aunt Martha. I’m going to be a nurse someday.”

“Your parents want you to stay home until the baby is born,” Mrs. Washington said and stroked the girl’s long hair. “I’ll call you in a little bit, Alex.”

Hamilton nodded in response, eyes still on the knife.

Once the children had their apples, peanut butter, and milk, the house resumed its usual tranquility. But for Hamilton, the quiet provoked upheaval in his mind. The Madison children had so many options in life before them. Sure, they knew what loss was but other than the eldest had never experienced personal trauma. They didn’t know what the real world was like and probably never would. They didn’t need to stress over their futures; everything would be handed to them.

He slipped away and found a bathroom. Door locked, he began going through the drawers and cabinets. Not finding anything there, he opened the medicine cabinet and spotted a pair of hair cutting scissors.

He sat on the closed toilet seat and rolled up the leg of his sweatpants. Eyes closed, he let that anger build again, let that hopeless cloud his judgement.

Scissors opened in his hand, he sliced the blade across his leg. White-hot pain flared up for a second and something inside him released. A few seconds later, the blood bubbled up in tiny droplets. The droplets pooled together to form a larger one and darkened as it grew. A few more seconds later the blood spilled free of the cut and trickled down Hamilton’s leg. He caught the blood with a piece of toilet paper before it could soak into his sock.

He poked at the cut on his leg for that shock of pain and watched the blood soak into the toilet paper. He contemplated cutting again but the need to _feel_ was no longer great enough to bring himself to slice into his skin a second time. He found a Band-Aid and cleaned the scissors.

He returned to the kitchen and relished the occasional sting of pain that reminded him that he was still alive.

***

Rueben Madison was born just before eight o’clock that night.

“Six pounds and six ounces,” Mrs. Washington told Hamilton on the phone. “Second biggest Madison baby. Frank was the biggest.”

Hamilton struggled not to tune her out and gave nonsense comments as she gushed about the baby. He poked at the cut he’d inflicted on his leg and the pain soothed him. “I’ll tell the kids,” he said. “Am I supposed to stay the night?”

“No, I will,” Mrs. Washington said. “You looked tired enough this afternoon. I’ll be there in an hour or so.”

“Okay.” Hamilton stopped a yawn. He said goodbye and hung up.

The children gathered around him.

“Boy,” Hamilton said.

William cheered while Sarah groaned.

“Healthy?” Nelly asked.

“Yeah.” He guessed at least since his mom hadn’t mentioned any concerns. “Six pounds and some ounces.” He dug his heel into his leg. An hour was too long to wait, he thought, as he felt the buildup, but buildup of what? He wasn’t sure and couldn’t place the chaos in his mind that cutting resolved. Pain grounded him and numbed the gnawing anxiety to _be better_.

He was quick to leave when Mrs. Washington arrived.

Home and safe in his bathroom, he cut his leg up with a pocketknife.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend returns.

Reuben Madison went home the next day. All the children—except Frank who was in college—gathered around their mom and the new baby, while Mr. Madison put away his wife’s hospital bag.

“He looks like William did as a baby,” Nelly said. “May I hold him?”

Mrs. Madison handed the baby to her oldest daughter. 

“I wasn’t that little,” William pouted. 

“You were smaller,” Nelly told him.

“How would you even remember? You were four.”

Nelly rolled her eyes and cooed over the baby.

“He’s as cute as the rest,” said Ambrose. He gave his mom a smile and retreated to his room. He’s seen enough babies in his seventeen years.

Madison continued to watch from a distance and felt a gentle tug on his skirt.

“Baby?” Bess asked.

“Yeah,” Madison said.

“I baby.” Bess stuck her thumb in her mouth.

“Not anymore.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I baby.”

“Mom,” William said, “Bess is crying.”

Mrs. Madison coaxed the former youngest to her. “It’s okay, Bess. You’re still our baby.”

“I was the baby once,” Sarah pouted. “Why did we get another boy? Girls are better.”

“Settle down, Sarah,” Mrs. Madison said. She wiped Bess’ tears and hugged Sarah. “Reuben will be a good baby and you will grow to love him. Do you want to help Mama and get Bess a cookie?”

“Can I have one, too?” Sarah asked.

“Of course.”

Sarah took Bess’ hand and led her to the kitchen. 

William took his turn holding the baby and Madison stepped closer. 

“What do you think, Jemmy?” Mrs. Madison asked.

“No more,” Madison said. 

Mrs. Madison chuckled. “You’re a good sport, Jem. Do you want to hold your brother?”

“No.” 

“Come on, Jemmy,” William said. “He’s super light and he doesn’t squirm or smell bad.”

Madison made a face and hesitated but held out his arms. 

While, Mrs. Madison knew Nelly and William could hold babies properly, she was less sure about Madison and hovered around and helped him prop up Reuben’s head.

“He  _is_ really small,” Madison murmured.

“It’s hard to believe you were even tinier,” said Mrs. Madison. She glanced at Nelly who had taken out her phone and nodded for her to take a picture. It was a rare opportunity to capture Madison holding a baby sibling.

“How much smaller was I?” Madison asked. He stared at the tiny veins in the closed eyelids and smudge of a mouth.

“About three-quarters his size.” She touched her son’s shoulder. “When the Washington’s met you, George could hold you in one hand with plenty of room to spare.”

“Wow.” Madison looked at his mom. “I’m done.”

She shook her head, bemused, and took the baby. “Go see if there are any cookies left.”

Reuben was soon content in his bassinet upstairs and Mrs. Madison tried to rest. But Bess crept in the master bedroom and climbed on the bed. She watched Reuben sleeping. “I baby.”

“Yes, you’re still a baby, too,” Mrs. Madison assured. She well remembered Madison’s reaction to Frank and Ambrose’s births and how upset he got over no longer being the baby. She was certain he never got over it. “But you’re also a big sister like Sarah and Nelly.”

“Big.” Bess scooted toward her mom. Her little nose wrinkled in thought and she whispered, “Shith.”

“Pardon?” Mrs. Madison watched her little daughter with a raised eyebrow.

Bess gave an overly wide smile of fake innocence.

“You said a naughty word, didn’t you?”

Bess nodded.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Lecks.”

“Of course.” She cuddled the toddler against her side. Her hope of resting was further interrupted by Madison. “What do you need, Jem?”

Madison shuffled in and got on the bed. “No more babies, right?”

“Jemmy!” Mrs. Madison squeezed his knee. “That’s between your father and I.”

“Why?” Bess asked. “Baby grow there.” She pointed at her mom’s stomach.

“Because Daddy has to buy the toys and food.”

Bess opened her mouth and pointed inside. “Cookies.” 

Mrs. Madison smiled at her and turned her attention to Madison. “Everything okay, Jemmy? You know more children doesn’t affect our love for you.”

“I know,” Madison mumbled. 

She squeezed his hand. “It won’t be long until you’re living with Thomas and you won’t have to deal with the chaos of little kids.”

Madison shrugged. “I guess I’ve gotten used to that.”

“Good boy, Jemmy.”

 

 

A few days before the spring semester started, Hamilton’s nightmares returned.

In the months after Mr. Stevens shot him, the nightmares came almost every night. It was a reminder to Washington of what it had been like the first few months they fostered Hamilton.

He woke screaming, hardly conscious. He screamed so much one night that he lost his voice for two days. Washington slept in his room but even that didn’t stop the terror. The only thing that did was to put him in the master bedroom. Being between both his parents and with the dogs seemed to give him the security he needed.

Mrs. Washington was less pleased with the cramped bed but Washington didn’t mind it. It was what his boy needed and after everything that happened if he could help him feel safe, he would do whatever it took.

Plus, Hamilton had impeccable timing to wake him five minutes before his alarm went off every morning and that was much pleasanter than a beeping alarm.

“No, George,” Mrs. Washington said once the nightmares resumed. “He is not sleeping in our bed again. He’s not a child.”

“We’re just going to let him scream then?” Washington said with a frown. “That’s not helping him.”

“I’m not going to argue further. The answer is no.”

Washington left the room to quiet down Hamilton. He found his son clutching his hip where he’d been shot as tears ran down his cheeks.

“It’s okay.” Washington held him close. “You’re safe now.”

“It hurts,” Hamilton whimpered.  He brushed up the leg of his boxers over the dimpled, red scar. “What if the bullet is still in there?”

“It’s not.” Washington rubbed a hand over the shiny, scarred skin. “I promise.” He kissed Hamilton’s forehead. “Go back to sleep. I’ll stay with you.”

Hamilton got back under the covers and lay on his back. “Do you think I should stay home the next semester, too?”

“No,” Washington said. “You’ll be okay. Just realize it’ll be an adjustment and you may have nightmares the first few weeks. Make sure John understands.”

“I’m broken.” Hamilton rolled onto his side.

Washington rubbed his back. “Nope, not even a little.”

“Then you’re broken, too.”

“Everyone is in their own way. Get some sleep.”

 

Not trusting Hamilton fully to explain everything to John Laurens, Washington stopped by the restaurant where he worked after his shift ended. “May I buy you dinner?”

“Huh,” Laurens said. “You’re the third person to ask me that today. But the first I’ll say yes to.”

They headed across the street to a Mexican restaurant and were soon seated.

“So, I take it Alexander is still a mess?” Laurens said as he reached for a chip.

“Yes.” Washington rubbed his forehead. “But tell me how you’re doing first, John.”

“Oh, I’m good.” Laurens loaded another chip down with salsa. “I make good tips and I got a schedule that I can work with while going to school. I may have a paid internship for the summer.”

“Good for you.” Washington beamed. He’d had his doubts on where this young man would end up after his father kicked him out and he got involved in prostitution. “I don’t want Alexander to be a burden to you.”

Laurens waved a hand. “Nah, I’m used to him.”

“He’ll wake you up screaming.” Washington told him about the nightmares and how to calm him down. With Hamilton’s permission, he told Laurens what medications Hamilton took and what to watch for if he forgot. “You may have to get tough with him.”

Laurens chuckled. “Tough how? I’ve never known you to scold him.”

“I have his respect,” Washington said and took a chip.

“True, sir.” A saucy grin touched his face. “I was hoping you were giving me permission to spank him.”

Washington choked. “John Laurens!”

Laurens picked up his water glass, barely concealing his grin. “Is that a no then?”

“Ugh, you boys.” He shook his head. Their food arrived and he was glad for some silence.

  ***

Laurens reorganized their old dorm and took down the bunkbed setup they had last year. He kept one beanbag chair and gave the other to Burr for his apartment.

“Welcome back, Hammy,” he said when Hamilton shoved in his boxes.

“Hey, John.”

They embraced and a secure, familiarity returned to them. It had been an unspoken vow between them and Burr never to speak of their threesome during the final debate last spring in California. While it hadn’t necessarily destroyed their friendship, it had brought out a weird dynamic that none was comfortable with. Hamilton wanted to blame that on where his relationship with Burr failed but he knew they had done it to try to save it, stupid as it sounded. And that that where the problem lay, most of their ideas were stupid.

“All ready for class tomorrow?” Laurens asked. He helped Hamilton set up his side of the room.

Hamilton fought with the bed sheets. “Yeah, I think so. I’ll be glad to graduate, though. I need a change.”

“I hear you.” Laurens helped him with the fitted sheet. “I’m sorry NYC didn’t want you. Dumb on their part. What about Boston?”

“The school didn’t impress me.” Hamilton picked up the second sheet. “I’m going to start with the school downtown for at least a year and try for NYC later. Thomas talked to me about it and it might work out.”

“Good.”

Once everything was in its place, the boys headed out for lunch. They talked about debate and how there was little hope of winning.

“Maybe, if we get on a team with Lafayette,” Laurens said. “Not Lee, though, he was always worthless. You and me as speakers, Laf as a researcher, we’d just need two more.”

“I don’t know if I even care,” Hamilton admitted. He stared at his sandwich. “I might skip it again.”

“No, Alex.” Laurens touched his hand. “You need it. We’ll get a good team.”

 

Neither Laurens nor Washington was going to let him skip debate tryouts. Hamilton thought about botching his speech but once he got on stage, the adrenaline and excitement flooded back and he had no problem finding his groove again.

On Friday, Laurens met him to see the results. “Scared?”

Hamilton shrugged. “Yes and no.”

“I’ll check.” He stepped toward the list posted on the wall near Washington’s classroom and returned a minute later. “Two things.” Laurens smiled at him. “We’re on the same team and there is another person on our team you might remember.”

Hamilton frowned as he tried to think of anyone else he knew that debated. He came up empty.

“Bree.”

Hamilton stared at him blinking. “Bree? My foster sister Bree? I haven’t seen her in, like, two years.”

“That one.”

“Shit.” Hamilton ran a hand through his hair and knocked the hair tie loose. “Why didn’t Dad tell me she was here?”

“Maybe he didn’t know?” Laurens suggested. “She might not be studying law.”

“But why didn’t she come to find us right away?” He searched the floor for the fallen hair tie as his messy hair fell in his face.

“I’m sure you can ask her.” Laurens snatched the hair tie up first. “Turn around. Let me fix your mane. You have got to learn how to make a proper ponytail.”

“Nah, I suckered you into it.” He let Laurens pull his hair back while he continued to wonder why Bree hadn’t come to them right away. “She was pretty shy,” he decided. “She probably wasn’t sure if we’d even remember her. I can’t wait for the first debate meeting.”

A soft smile lingered on Laurens’ face to hear those words. When he told Washington later, they both basked in the relief that Hamilton looked forward to something and some of his passion might return.

 ***

Hamilton bounced from foot to foot as he waited for the debate team to arrive. The more he thought about Bree, the more he worried she wouldn’t remember him or even worse that things had gone poorly for her after she was returned to her father. She had only been the Washington’s foster child for a few months. But she was in college, which was a plus, right?

The classroom door opened and a small girl with glasses and a short pixie cut stepped in.

Hamilton stopped bouncing. “Bree?”

A shy smile touched her lips. “Hi, Alex.”

“Oh, my God, it is you!” Hamilton hugged her. “Shit, girl, how are you?”

The smile widened. “I’m good.” She stepped back from his embrace. “Nice hair.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m still growing it out.”

“Mr. Washington is letting you?”

“Grudgingly.” Hamilton pointed to the desks near them. “Sit. Tell me everything while we have a few minutes.”

Bree gave him a quick recap of living with her dad again. “He stopped drinking but he wasn’t exactly a devoted dad. I took care of myself but it was okay. No more foster care at least.” She had to retake some classes in high school and graduated late but was able to get a scholarship for college. “That’s why I started in the spring. I didn’t want to wait until fall.”

“For sure,” Hamilton said. “Then I would have missed you. I graduate this year.”

“Are you going to law school?” she asked.

He told her about his plan and added, “I have something awesome to tell you.”

Bree pushed up her glasses as her eyes lit up. “What?”

“The Washington’s adopted me.”

“No way!” Bree jumped up. “That’s the best, Alex!” She punched his shoulder. “Lucky dog.”

Hamilton grinned. “Thanks.”

The door opened and the rest of the debate team filed in with Washington behind them. He glanced around and his face softened when he saw Bree. “It’s good to see you again, love.”

“You, too, sir,” Bree said softly.

Laurens dropped into a chair next to them. “Remember me?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Jake.”

Laurens rolled his eyes. “This is why I don’t deal with girls.”

Washington gathered the team around.

Lafayette and Bree were the researchers with Lee the swing, which he griped about every chance he got.

“I’m just going to be left to my own devices. None of you is going to want to trade to put me on stage or in a seat. The swing spot is stupid. The debate style should never have changed. It’s not our fault not enough girls wanted to debate to keep their own teams.”

“Hey, Lee,” Laurens said. “Shut up.”

Lee scowled.

After the meeting, Hamilton and Bree lingered behind.

“I only found out this week you were enrolled here,” Washington said as he watched his former foster daughter. “I would have sought you out earlier otherwise.”

“College is a lot to adjust to,” Bree said and pushed up her glasses. “I don’t think I was ready to see you guys yet.”

Hamilton wrapped an arm around her. “We never forgot you. What’s your major?”

Bree looked at Washington. “Teaching.”

Washington smiled. “A noble trade. Mom will be happy to know you are well. Can we entice you over for dinner this weekend?”

“I’d like that.”

Hamilton joined Bree for dinner in the cafeteria the next night to catch her up on the rest of his squad. “Thomas is in law school now and he’s got his own apartment. He and James are still together, obviously.” He told her about Madison’s health scare the previous winter that had left him needing a wheelchair on occasion for almost a year. “He’s doing well now but he dropped out of college after that. It was just too much for him.”

Bree twirled spaghetti on her fork. “What about Angelica?”

“Graduated and working,” Hamilton said. “Part-time right now at a law firm and she has another part-time retail job. I believe she’s waiting for Jefferson to have an actual job other than Mr. Madison’s pet so he can be her secretary.”

Bree giggled. “Poor Thomas. She’ll destroy him.”

“Right?” Hamilton wiped his place clean with a piece of garlic bread. “Is your roommate decent?”

“Yeah, you probably know her. Marty J Jefferson?”

“Seriously?” Hamilton chuckled. “How did you manage to stay under the radar for three weeks.”

“I doubt Thomas wanted to remember me.” She giggled.

“True.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad everything is going well for you.” He brushed up her sleeve and smiled to see the charm bracelet he had gifted her before she left. “You’re so precious.”

“And you’re still a dork,” Bree said. She bit her lip. “So, I’m guessing there is a reason you haven’t told me how Aaron is?”

Hamilton dragged a fingertip along the table. “Bad breakup.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, it was overdue since, like, after the first month we dated.”

“It still hurts, though.” She caught his hand and watched his dejected face.

Hamilton swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. “I’m always going to miss him because I miss the Aaron Burr I first met back in freshman year. It’s not as if he isn’t still a great guy but we had such a connection and so much fun before he left. I can’t move past what could have been if that hadn’t happened.” He rubbed his eyes. “He and I have even talked about it and promised to put the past behind us but it’s always there. He left and we can never get back what we had before that.”

“That’s rough,” Bree murmured. “It probably isn’t a bad thing for you to be apart for a while.”

“I guess I hope so,” Hamilton said. “But I worry if too much time passes, we’ll lose everything we have and it won’t be worth being friends.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” She took his hand and turned it over to study his palm. “See this line?” She traced the crease running an about an inch below the base of his fingertips. “It means you care about people and never forget your friends. Your line is really long. You won’t let Aaron go.”

Hamilton stared at his palm. “Huh. I feel like you’re full of shit but I’m going to trust you on that because my little sister would never lie to me.”

Bree smiled. “I wouldn’t.” She stood. “I have to study but maybe we can have dinner again tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Hamilton picked up their plates. “John may want to join if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, Jake and I get along great.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for pain.

Hamilton drove Bree home with him Sunday afternoon. Lafayette and Adrienne showed up as well and put Mrs. Washington in her element of having a large family to dote on. Potato was less impressed and tried to bite Lafayette.

While the women exclaimed over Adrienne’s ring, Lafayette lifted Hamilton up from behind and squeezed him. “I saw you smile, what’s up with that, little lion?”

“Put me down,” Hamilton complained. “You’re lying. I never smile around you.”

Lafayette dropped him and tugged out the hair tie controlling his wild hair. “You’re like stupidly cute sometimes, Alexander.” He tousled his brother’s hair.

“Come on!” Hamilton ducked away. “I’m older than you. Stop.”

“Boys,” Washington chided as he returned from his study with a bottle of wine. “Be nice to each other for a few hours.”

“Nope.” Lafayette yanked up the waistband of Hamilton’s boxers.

“Gilbert!” Hamilton shouted.

Lafayette backed off. “Dude, don’t use my stupid names against me.”

Hamilton stuck out his chin. “I’ll use all of them.” He tugged at his jeans as he tried to get everything back in the right position. “Ugh, I think you made my testicles re-ascend.” He slipped out of the kitchen.

Lafayette looked at his dad. “He’s smiling again.”

Washington nodded. “Debate and Bree.”

“Good.”

In the bathroom, Hamilton, his jeans down to situate everything winced as the fabric rubbed against the cuts on his legs. He stared at the red scabs, vicious and angry against his pale skin. Below those were smooth, fresh scars. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He jumped and bit his tongue when a knock pounded on the door.

“Hurry up,” Lafayette said. “Time to eat.”

The dinner table had never been livelier as talk and laughter flowed non-stop.  Adrienne and Lafayette told the story of his proposal, how he had taken her to their favorite French restaurant, had her serenaded in French, and then proposed to her in French.

“Please tell me your wedding is not going to be in French,” Hamilton said.

“Maybe,” Lafayette replied. He smiled at his fiancée.

“Barf.” It was the politest thing he could think of and not bring everyone down with his reality that he knew he would never marry. He was too damaged, too messed up. Too ready for his life to end.

“Quiet,” Washington said. He reached over to brush Hamilton’s hair out of his face. “I thought you had it up?”

Hamilton pointed at his brother.

Lafayette slipped the hair tie off his wrist and slingshot it at him.

“Don’t start.” Washington stood and yanked Hamilton’s hair back and secured it.

Talk resumed with Mrs. Washington telling Bree about babysitting the Madison children and the new baby. “Alexander has helped a few times.”

Bree looked at her foster brother. “For real? Kids don’t run away screaming from you?”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “Kids love me.”

“They actually do,” Mrs. Washington said. “The youngest, Bess, loves him. I’m sure the new baby Reuben will love him, too.”

“How many kids is that now?” Bree asked.

Mrs. Washington counted off on her fingers. “Eight.”

“That’s how many you want, isn’t it, Alex?” Lafayette teased.

“No,” Washington said, almost too quickly.

Hamilton shrugged. Couldn’t have kids when he had no future.

 

After dessert, Lafayette suggested they play a board game. No one argued until he came back with Pictionary.

“Come on,” Hamilton whined. “None of us can draw worth crap.”

“Bree can,” Lafayette said. “Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway. You can be on Bree’s team.”

“Let’s mix it up a little more,” Washington said. “You boys together, Mom and Adrienne, and Bree can be with me.”

The brothers groaned.

Mrs. Washington and Adrienne turned out to be the perfect pair and rarely ran out of time in guessing each other’s scribbles. On the other hand, Lafayette and Hamilton failed more times than naught.

“What the heck, Alex?” Lafayette complained. “Is that a shark, a cloud? Dude.”

“Use your imagination,” Hamilton retorted.

Time ran out and Hamilton glared at his brother. “Jumping the shark, you dumbo.”

“Ugh.”

The game continued with Mrs. Washington and Adrienne well in the lead. Washington and Bree made a good showing, mostly thanks to Bree’s quick, accurate drawings, as Washington was hopeless otherwise.

“Let’s play again with better teams,” Lafayette said once his mom and fiancée won.

“No,” Hamilton said. “Bree and I still have to head back to campus.”

“Party pooper.”

Washington intervened. “Settle down, boys. We can play again next weekend.” He saw Hamilton and Bree out with a reminder to drive carefully.

Back at campus, Hamilton walked Bree to her dorm. “It’s good to have you back in our family,” he told her. “I know you’ll be taken care of. Goodbye, sis.”

“See you, Alex.” She waved and walked to her dorm.

Hamilton headed to his, dumb song from the radio stuck in his brain.

“Lexi!”

A half-scream escaped Hamilton’s lips. His heart pounded. Heat flooded his veins. No. NO! That was over. He couldn’t see, couldn’t think.

“Lexi,” the voice repeated this time with a chuckle and Hamilton saw a guy nearby wrap his arm around his girlfriend, the presumed Lexi.

Heart still pounding and mind in disarray, Hamilton found his way to his dorm.

Laurens had returned not long before him. “How was dinner?” he asked.

“Fine.” Hamilton tossed his phone on his bed. He took a deep breath but his heart would not stop its exaggerated thumping. “How was work?”

Laurens showed him his tidy collection of tips. “Not bad for a Sunday. You want to watch a movie or do you have homework?”

“I was going to shower,” Hamilton said. He picked at his wrist and closed his eyes briefly.

“That takes, what, five minutes?” Laurens questioned.

Hamilton shrugged as he grabbed a towel from a drawer and undressed. He slipped the phoenix medallion off and set it on his bed.

“I’ll find a movie for us.” Laurens sprawled out on his bed.

Hamilton didn’t reply. Towel around his waist, he grabbed a folded washcloth but paused before he left the dorm. “John?”

Laurens’ eyes remained on his laptop. “Huh?”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Huh?” Laurens repeated with a glance over his shoulder but Hamilton closed the door without elaborating.

Shaking his head, Laurens searched Netflix for a movie and found a comedy they hadn’t watched. He browsed on his phone while he waited. Five minutes passed, then ten.

“What the fuck are you doing, Ham,” he muttered to himself. He waited another five minutes and headed for the bathroom.

The bathroom was quiet except for one shower running. “Hammy?”

No response.

He knocked on the stall of the running shower. “Alexander?”

Nothing.

A wave of heat washed over him and he jimmied the door for a few seconds before giving up and crawling underneath. Panic filled his voice as he called out, “Alex?”

He heard a faint whimper this time and drew back the shower curtain. “Oh, God, Alexander! No!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide attempt

Blood ran down Hamilton’s arm, the water washing most of it away as it gushed from the slashed wrist.

Laurens gripped his hand around Hamilton’s bleeding wrist. “Alex, talk to me.” Tremors shot through his body as he yanked his phone from his back pocket and dialed 911. “Alex!”

Hamilton shook his wet hair out his eyes. “Let me go, Jack,” he whispered.

“Hell, no.” He spoke on the phone and struggled to control the panic in his voice. “Yeah, um, my friend cut—he cut his wrist. He’s barely conscious.” He sucked in a shaky breath and gave the address and directions to the dorm. “Alex, Alex, babe, look at me. Stay strong. We’re going to get you help.” He set his phone down and grabbed the washcloth off the floor and wrapped it tight around the cut. He turned off the water and tucked the towel around his friend. “I got you. Hang in there, babe.”

Hamilton rested his head against Laurens’ shoulder as his eyes closed. “Let me go,” he insisted.

“No.” Laurens headed for the exit and heard sirens in the distance.

The next minutes blurred together as paramedics took over and set Hamilton on a gurney and put him in the back of the ambulance. One EMT said something to him and Laurens stared at him blankly.

“Family?” the man repeated.

“George Washington.” He pressed a hand against his mouth. Pain jetted through his gut and he puked, his hand catching half of it and spraying it in his face.

“He’s going to pass out,” the EMT said to someone a second before Laurens’ wobbly legs collapsed beneath him.

***

His phone rang right after he got in bed. Washington sighed and set his unopened book back down and reached for his cell. “Hello?”

“George Washington?”

He frowned. “Yes.”

“Your son, Alexander, is in the hospital. It appears he tried to commit suicide.”

Washington’s jaw went slack. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe.

“George?” Mrs. Washington touched his arm. “Who’s on the phone? You’re white as a ghost. George?”

Washington hung up and got out of bed.

“George!” his wife hurried after him, chasing him downstairs as he took the steps two at a time.

He couldn’t answer and grabbed his coat and handed over hers. If he told her, if he opened his mouth… This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. His Alexander wouldn’t do this. Not his Alexander.

Mrs. Washington stopped questioning and followed him into the garage. She got in the Cadillac, tears running down her cheeks, as she knew something terrible had happened. “Is it Alexander?”

Washington’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and he ignored the thundering pain in his chest. His left hand slipped off the wheel, suddenly numb. He nodded.

Mrs. Washington closed her eyes as her lips trembled. A gasp escaped and she struggled for control to question further. All she managed was to whisper, “George?”

“Attempted—” He struggled to find air. His head throbbed. Half his body seemed numb and the other half pricked with pain. How was this real? Not his Alexander. “Suicide.” The word came out strangled, half whisper, half shout.

“No!” Mrs. Washington’s wail vibrated through the car.

With only one hand that wanted to work, Washington couldn’t let go of the steering wheel to console her. But how could he offer comfort when nothing made sense? When his world had turned into a dark pit?

He didn’t know how he got the car parked, didn’t know how he and his wife made it inside the hospital. Some choked, raw voice said his son’s name and then they were in his room, staring at his pale face as he slept, his left wrist wrapped in a thick bandage.

Mrs. Washington sobbed and collapsed into a chair as tears ran down her cheeks.

Washington leaned against the wall as his body trembled. What was before him couldn’t penetrate his mind as real. His boy had been smiling again. He’d been happy. Why would he—how could he—didn’t he know how many people loved him? How many people needed him?

The doctor came in and pushed a chair toward Washington. “Alexander is stable,” he said. “Physically he’ll be fine. His medical records show he’s on anxiety meds and antidepressants. We strongly recommend keeping him here on suicide watch for forty-eight hours.”

Washington pressed a shaking hand against his lips as he sat. It took every bit of mental and physical energy to speak. “Who found him?” His voice was only a whisper, dry, stifled.

“John Laurens,” the doctor said. “It was a shock for him and he ended up passing out. He’s resting in the emergency clinic, I believe.” He watched the distraught couple still in their pajamas and unable even to begin to comprehend what had happened, what would happen. “It’s a shock, I know. Family counseling can be a good place to start.”

Washington stared at him unblinking and the doctor rightfully chose to halt further advice.

“I’ll give you some time.” He left the room.

“He was smiling,” Washington whispered half to himself as he bent forward and grunted at the pain burning along his left side. He rubbed at his chest.

Mrs. Washington reached toward him and jumped to her feet as the last bit of color vanished from his face. “You’re having a heart attack. Lord, give me strength,” she cried. She opened the door and flagged down a nurse. “My husband is having a heart attack.” Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled free as darkness crept into her vision.

“Sit down, ma’am,” the nurse said and took her hand.

Washington was transferred to a wheelchair and hastened away.

“Is there someone I can call for you?” The nurse looked at the patient in the room and her heart nearly broke for the poor woman.

Mrs. Washington could only sob. The threat of losing Alexander was devastating enough. But the possibility of losing his husband, too? The man who had been by her side for thirty-two years? Her best friend. She couldn’t.

It was too much to comprehend. Too terrible to fathom. Too much for her mind and body to handle.

***

“Any news?” Jefferson sat next to Lafayette in the waiting room after searching and failing to find coffee.

The hospital staff had wasted no time tracking down the next family member to call after Mrs. Washington fainted. Lafayette’s name had been listed in Washington’s medical file under “children.” Too overwhelmed and distraught to drive, he had called Jefferson to take him.

Lafayette shook his head. He leaned over, shoulders hunched. “Why would he do it? Why now?”

“I don’t think there’s an answer,” Jefferson said. He rubbed a hand against Lafayette’s back. “He could have been—” He struggled to swallow “—planning it for a while.”

Lafayette squeezed his eyes shut.

They looked up as footsteps approached.

Pale and still shaking, Laurens dragged himself toward them.

Jefferson stood and hugged him. “It’s going to be okay.” His voice came out a hundred times surer than he felt as his own mind struggled to comprehend.

A sob slipped out and Laurens clung to him. “I should have found him sooner,” he cried. “I waited twenty minutes.”

“Shh, John, it’s not your fault.”

Laurens hiccupped and pressed his face into Jefferson’s shoulder. “That’s what he told me. I didn’t understand.” He hiccupped again. “We were gonna watch a movie.” He sucked in his breath in short gasps and his legs shook violently.

“It’s okay.” Jefferson rubbed his back. “We’ll get through this.” He got Laurens to sit next to him and squeezed his hand. His other returned to stroke Lafayette’s back. He wasn’t sure when he had become the emotional support system for the entire squad, but would do it to the best of his ability.

A few minutes later, Mr. Madison joined them from where he and his wife had been sitting with Mrs. Washington. Jefferson had gotten a hold of them after Lafayette called him. “George is out of surgery,” he said. “I think the nurse said they had to put a stint in.” He sat across from them and rubbed the bald spot on his head. “It’s lucky he was already in the hospital.”

Jefferson’s hand faulted against Lafayette’s back. “It could have…”

Mr. Madison nodded. “Martha doesn’t know how bad it was yet. She’s barely holding it together as is. Is there any news on Alexander?”

“Sedated,” mumbled Lafayette. “Could be another two hours before he starts to wake.”

“We’ll get through this.” He stood, unable to be in one spot. He wandered off to call home and make sure his own son wasn’t adding to the crisis.

Tremors continued to roll through Laurens’ body and made his hand flinch in Jefferson’s tight grasp. “Has anyone told Aaron?” he asked.

No one had.

“He’ll blame himself,” Jefferson said and held back a sigh. “He’ll need to be told in person.” He dropped his hand from Lafayette and checked his phone: after midnight. “I don’t want to wake him but I don’t want him not to know either. I could have Angelica go to his apartment.”

“Your call,” Laurens said and another shake jerked through his body.

He’d be devastated if no one told him until some twelve hours later. Jefferson called Angelica. It took a second try before she woke and answered.

“It’s me,” Jefferson said. “I got a lot of bad news.” He took a deep breath. “Alexander tried to—to kill himself. Washington had a heart attack. Aaron doesn’t know yet.”

Silence filled the line before Angelica mumbled, “Oh, shit. I-I—damn. How’s…”

“No one is functioning.” Jefferson blinked rapidly. “Can you tell Aaron?”

“Yeah.” Her breathing quickened. “I can’t even…”

“I know. Call me later.” Jefferson hung up and pulled his hand from Laurens’ grip. “I have to use the bathroom.”

He locked himself in a stall and stared at the floor. A tear dripped off his nose. He snuffled as his nose ran and he began to pray, something he hadn’t done since his father died. He never considered himself a religious person but right now, he needed something to focus on to hold it together and be strong for his friends.

Composed but exhausted, Jefferson returned to the waiting room and let Laurens’ hand slip back into his. He slumped down in the uncomfortable chair and stared at Lafayette’s ponytail until his eyes closed.


	10. Chapter 10

The doorbell ringing sent Burr flying out of bed in fright before he could comprehend the sound. He flipped on a light and squinted as he made it the few steps from his bed to the front door.

“What the fuck?” he muttered when he saw Angelica through the peephole. He opened the door. “Who died?”

Angelica stepped inside and wondered how she was going to get the words out, how she was going to pick up the pieces of whatever Burr’s reaction was.

“Angelica?” Burr hugged himself, chilled from vacating his warm bed at one in the morning and with apprehension at the terrible news.

“Alexander slit his wrist.” She pinched her bottom lip to stop the quivering. “He’s alive but the news also gave Washington a bad heart attack. He’s alive, too, but it almost killed him.”

Burr sank to the floor as the words tried to penetrate his brain. How long had Hamilton been suicidal? Had he missed the signs? He knew his ex-boyfriend had been depressed and their breakup hadn’t done him any favors. He should have called Hamilton. Checked up on him as a friend. Why hadn’t he called him? It was as if he had abandoned his friend all over again.

“Fuck.” Burr pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes.

Angelica sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him. “I know.” She listened to his quiet cries and wished for words to comfort him. But what was there to say? “It’s not your fault?” Whoever actually believed that? Definitely not Burr, she knew. “I can take you to the hospital. Thomas, Lafayette, and John are there now.”

Burr nodded but didn’t move to stand. “I should have called him,” he whispered.

Angelica rubbed the back of his neck. “We don’t know how long he might have been planning this. No one’s spoken to him yet.”

Pain tingled through his body. “How could we not have known?” He got to his feet and rubbed his eyes. “It’s my fault.”

“No.” Angelica kissed his forehead. “Thinking like that isn’t going to help anyone. Get dressed. It’s cold out.” She waited by the front door while he changed into jeans and a hoodie.

The waiting room was quiet. Jefferson asleep using Lafayette’s back as a pillow while Lafayette consented to his fate and stayed hunched over.

Laurens stretched his legs out to create an obstacle if anyone else had the terrible luck of being in the hospital waiting room a couple hours after midnight. He pulled himself up, though, when he saw Angelica and Burr.

“Anything new?” Angelica asked.

“Washington’s having trouble coming out of anesthesia,” Laurens said and watched Burr through puffy, red eyes. “Alex is still out.”

Angelica sat down across from the boys while Burr remained standing and biting his knuckle.

A few minutes passed and Laurens stood and walked toward Burr. “Let’s go for a walk.”

They wandered toward the hospital cafeteria in silence.

“I didn’t know,” they both said at the same time and fell quiet again.

“What is he going to say when he wakes up?” Burr whispered.

“He’s not going to blame either of us,” Laurens said. He stopped and gripped Burr’s shoulders. “It’s Mr. Stevens, we both know that. The man is fucking dead and he’s still destroying Alexander’s life. He was mentally ill and now Alex is terrified he is too and now he has the fucking proof that he’s right. This isn’t our Alexander; we know that. We just have to show Alex that, too.”

Burr met Laurens’ magnetic eyes and took comfort in the familiar freckled face. “How? And what if he doesn’t want to see us? We did push him, John.” He shrugged off Laurens’ hands. “When have we ever been nice to him? For real. We’re always trying to take from him. He _is_ better off without us. We shouldn’t even be here. It’s—”

“Shut up, Aaron,” Laurens snapped as his nostrils flared. A redness crept up his cheeks. “I’m well aware of my behavior toward him back in freshman year, or whatever. I’m fixing my mistakes. I didn’t fucking leave him.”

Burr shoved him and jerked his head. “My sister died, you twat. You don’t know what that’s like.” A narrowed hardness settled into his eyes.

A vein popped on Laurens’ neck. “Try me!” he shouted. “I haven’t seen my parents or siblings in two years. You don’t get to claim your life sucked more than mine or that your fucked up behavior is somehow validated.”

Burr seethed, chest heaving but he could think of no further words to scream. “Get away from me.” He headed down the hall.

“What do you want, Burr?” Laurens yelled after him with spit flying. “You can’t just wait for everything!”

Burr sped up and punched the wall as he turned the corner.

Laurens sank down to the floor and rested his face in his hands as a quivering settled in his muscles. Lose one friend to a stupid fight, almost lose another to suicide, and almost lose his mentor to a heart attack in one night. It about summed up how fucked up his life was, he thought as he focused on the pounding in his ears.

“Aaron Burr and John Laurens,” a voice announced over the intercom, “please report to the waiting room on the third floor.”

Laurens got to his feet and ran.

He and Burr came in from opposite directions and stopped, panting, behind the nurse talking to Lafayette.

“What happened?” Laurens blurted while Burr asked, “Is he awake?”

“Alex is almost awake,” Lafayette said. “Stay in the waiting room.” He followed the nurse on heavy feet.

Jefferson struggled to keep his eyes open and his head tilted to the right where his “pillow” had been. Angelica moved to sit next to him.

In Hamilton’s room, Lafayette sat next to the bed and watched his brother’s pale face. The heavy bandage on his wrist kept catching his attention, though, and all the life drained out of him. He shouldn’t have teased Hamilton so much. He should have listened more, talked to him more. He should have been aware of how much his brother was hurting. They hadn’t had an easy time bonding when Hamilton arrived as a foster child. He’d struggled to understand the dramatic, egomaniac yet insecure Hamilton. But time had given them a brotherly bond and he’d come to love his little lion.

A rustle of blankets snapped his attention away and he watched Hamilton’s eyes squint open.

“Hey, little lion—Alexander. I’m here.” He reached toward him with a shaking hand.

Hamilton closed his eyes again. His dry lips parted and moved but Lafayette couldn’t read what he said.

“You can sleep, bro. I’m not leaving.” Lafayette squeezed his fingers.

Hamilton’s eyes opened again and he blinked to focus on his brother’s face. “Laffy.”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Moisture gathered in his eyes.

“Where’s… Dad?” Hamilton licked his dry lips. “Water.”

Lafayette found a cup of water with a straw by the bed and helped him get a drink while he tried to figure out how to answer the question. He was grateful a nurse came in and delayed the response.

“Alexander, I need to ask you a few questions,” she said. “Do you want your brother to remain in the room?”

Hamilton nodded.

“Okay.” She took a clipboard from the holder at the foot of the bed. “How has your mood been?”

“I don’t know,” Hamilton whispered.

“Did you plan beforehand to hurt yourself today?”

“No.”

“Why did you decide to hurt yourself?”

Hamilton touched the gauze wrapped around his wrist and closed his eyes. “Because the pain is never going to go away.” His chest rose and fell in rapid movements. “No matter what I do, I won’t bet better.”

“That isn’t true, Alexander,” the nurse said. “Sometimes it can take some trial and error with medication and therapy. You were already on the right track with getting help. There is always hope and we will find what works best for you.”

“It’s been nine months!” Hamilton snapped. “Then why am I not better?” He sat up and clawed at his bandaged wrist.

The nurse injected medication into his IV and Hamilton sank back down within a minute. She checked his wrist to make sure the bandage remained secure. She turned to Lafayette. “Sometimes the effects of sedation can cause agitation. His doctor will likely want to give him a high dose of some anti-anxiety meds before he wakes again. He’ll need to be in a calm state before he’s told about his father.”

Lafayette nodded, too traumatized and upset to get his lips to expel words.


	11. Chapter 11

“How is he?” Washington asked. He stared at the IV attached to his hand. More tubes came out of different orifices and he never felt so vulnerable and helpless. His boy needed him and he couldn’t move.

Mrs. Washington watched her husband and tried not to listen to the abnormal rhythm beating on his heart monitor. “Depressed. He doesn’t think he can get better.” Dark circles under her eyes made her face look bruised and a tired paleness aged her.

A sigh escaped and Washington let his eyes close in defeated exhaustion. “What do we do?”

“The… hold—” she couldn’t allow herself to say suicide “—will be extended for another twenty-four hours after he’s told about your heart attack.” She stroked her husband’s hand. “He’ll need more or different therapy and medication. We’ll get him better.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and when she spoke again her voice rose, “It’s a good thing Mr. Stevens is already dead!”

“Martha, dear.” Washington gazed at his wife in shock. “I’ve never heard you speak so.”

She shook her head and pressed an already damp tissue against her eyes. “I almost lost you both.”

Washington moved his hand over hers. “I’m here, my dear. We’ll get through this.”

A nurse poked her head in the room. “You have several anxious visitors if you’re up for it.”

“Let them in,” Washington said.

Lafayette, Jefferson, Laurens, and Burr piled in and fanned out around the bed. Lafayette stood behind his mom and rested his hands on her shoulders.

“You all look exhausted,” Washington said as if he looked any better.

“Laf’s back is not a good pillow,” Jefferson said. He spoke slowly to keep his voice even. “How are you?”

“There are tubes coming out of places I’d rather not think about,” Washington said. “But I’m going to be fine.” He took Jefferson’s hand. “How’s Jemmy?”

“Crying,” said Jefferson. “Eleanor said he’s gone through two boxes of tissues.”

“You should go be with him.”

“Yes, sir.” Jefferson squeezed Washington’s hand and slipped out of the room.

The worn down yet still alert gaze settled on Laurens and Burr. “Whatever Alexander tells you to do, you will do it.” His voice was firm.

“Yes, sir,” they whispered.

The nurse shooed them out but let Lafayette remain with his parents.

“How did we miss the signs?” Lafayette asked as his eyes flitted between them. “Was there any?”

“I don’t think there was,” Washington said. He rubbed at his chest and stopped when he saw the panic in his family’s eyes. “Merely an itch, I promise. You know I can’t stand to be pampered. I don’t want either of you acting like I’m about to die,” he scolded. “That devotion goes to Alexander. We get out boy back to health. That’s all I care about.” He wasn’t one to voice his doubts aloud but the first chance he got once home, he would write in his journal:

_I knew from the start Stevens would be our ruin. I knew he would take Alexander away from me. But to do it in this way, the most cruelly, I could never have imagined. My wife is correct that it’s a good thing he is dead. There had to have been signs. Why did I not see them? Have I become blind to Alexander’s actions? I should have done more. I could have done more._

 ***

Laurens and Burr walked together back to the waiting room. Angelica had already left and with Jefferson gone, too, they realized they had no means to leave except to take a bus.

Burr searched for bus routes on his phone. “One leaves from here in a half hour that’ll take me downtown. You’ll have to catch another from there to get to campus.”

Laurens nodded.

When the bus arrived, they sat together but didn’t speak.

At his stop, Burr got off without a word and didn’t realize Laurens followed him until he said, “It’s a nice building. Brick. It’s nice.”

Burr unlocked the front door and almost succeeded in slamming it in Laurens’ face but he got his foot in at the last second.

He followed Burr to the second floor and this time Burr didn’t slam the door in his face. He let him in and locked the door behind him.

“I have to get ready for work, John,” Burr said. “Do what you want.” He rubbed his gritty eyes as he searched out clean underclothes and dress pants in his dresser. He had discovered quickly that his shirts wrinkled too much folded in the dresser. A few command hooks on the wall and hangers solved the problem. He grabbed one of the dress shirts Angelica had bought for him and headed into the bathroom.

It was a really small apartment, Laurens noted as he glanced around. He moved toward the beanbag chair he’d given Burr and sank into it. He watched the sky grow bluer as the sun rose. His heavy, tired eyes closed.

Yawning, Burr found something to take with him for lunch and wished coffee didn’t make his stomach hurt. He’d have to splurge on a few Mountain Dews from the vending machine at work. Maybe he could get someone to buy him one. Mr. Prevost’s wife seemed to like him. If she was in today, he was certain he could entice one out of her.

He left a note for Laurens and headed to work as eight o’clock neared.

 ***

After hearing how Hamilton might react to the news that his dad had another heart attacked, his doctor drugged him as much as possible when told.

So disconnected from reality, Hamilton only nodded when Lafayette told him.

But as he was weaned off the medication throughout the day, the agitation grew and he tried every attempt to hurt himself until he was restrained to the bed.

His doctor allowed Washington up for an hour to sit with his son, although Hamilton remained asleep. Before he went back to his own bed, Hamilton’s doctor spoke to him and Mrs. Washington.

“In Alexander’s current state,” he said, “we anticipate he will try to commit suicide again as soon as he’s released from the hospital. We recommend admitting him to the psychiatric ward until he is stabilized.”

Washington closed his eyes and tried to let the words penetrate his brain. The cold, soft hand of his wife slipped into his and he held on tight, grounding himself to the reality. “How long?”

“A week minimum,” the doctor said. “It depends on how willing he is to accept help.” He looked between the sad, worried parents. “It’s my understanding that his biological father was mentally ill and recently passed away.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Washington said as her muddled mind tried to comprehend but at that point, she didn’t even know what day it was. “Can that be hereditary?”

The doctor nodded. “Schizophrenia, bipolar disorders, and depression can all run in families. I’ve requested Thomas Stevens’ medical records but it’s also my understanding that he was never treated and we may not know what he suffered from.” He let the news sink in before he continued. “While Alexander is admitted, we’ll be doing our best to diagnose and treat him. The more cooperative he is, the greater chance we’ll have of getting him the help he needs. His mental state is extremely fragile. But he’ll be safe in our care.”

Tears gathered in Mrs. Washington’s eyes. “When will he be admitted?”

“Tomorrow.”

Washington rubbed at his forehead and was thankful for his own calming medication. “Will he be coherent enough for us to talk to him before he’s admitted?”

The doctor pursed his lips. “I’m doubtful at this point. You will be allowed to visit him once he’s in care but we would recommend waiting a few days to let him settle in.” He stood. “You should return to your room to rest, George. We can meet again if you have any further questions.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurens and Burr are a mess.

Montpelier held a quiet sleepiness to it when Jefferson returned from the hospital. The kitchen was empty and he headed down the hall to Mr. Madison’s office. Empty. Upstairs the playroom was vacant as was Nelly’s room. Apprehension flooding his body, Jefferson hurried toward Madison’s room and pushed open the door.

The younger children and Madison sat on the bed watching cartoons. The kids had been up most of the night, too, after their parents had left before midnight. All were in their pajamas huddled together under the covers.

“Anything new?” Madison asked. His eyes remained red and puffy. He held Bess on his lap as she sucked her thumb.

Nelly, William, and Sarah moved to let him get in bed next to his boyfriend.

A yawn stopped an immediate answer. “Not really,” Jefferson said. “What’re we watching?”

“My Little Pony,” said Sarah. She cuddled into his arms.

“Awesome.” Jefferson looked at Madison holding his sister. “Are kids still a no?”

“Yup,” Madison said.

“Good.” Jefferson closed his eyes and fell asleep within a few minutes.

Across town, the uncomfortable beanbag chair didn’t allow Laurens to sleep for long. He stretched and rubbed his aching neck. He checked his phone but found no messages. He used the bathroom and found Burr’s note on the counter. _I’ll be home before 5. If you’re staying, make something for dinner._

He made his way to Burr’s full-size bed and sat down to take off his shoes. Too uncomfortable to sleep in skinny jeans, those made it to the floor, too.

When Burr returned home—staggering and yawning—ten minutes before five, he found Laurens standing at the stove making grilled cheese sandwiches in his lime green boxer briefs. “You got my note.”

Laurens nodded.

Burr stood next to him. “News?” His whole body ached with fatigue and his head pounded.

Laurens flipped over a sandwich. “Alex is being admitted to a psych ward tomorrow.”

“Shit.” Burr rubbed his eyes. “For how long?”

“Dunno.” He flipped the second sandwich.

“Like what’s wrong with him?” Burr gripped his trembling hands together. “Is he schizophrenic? Is it something like that?”

“Dunno.”

“The fuck, John!” Burr pushed him. “Did you decide to stop giving a shit? At least I’m not that cold.”

The spatula hit the counter with a clatter. “What am I supposed to say, Aaron?” His voice cracked. “I don’t know. No one knows yet.” He retrieved the spatula and slapped the sandwiches on a plate. He tossed two more on the pan. “I know your uncle didn’t love you,” he told the sandwiches in a strained mutter. “But you weren’t abused. I by no means took the same abuse Alex did while he was in foster care but I’ve felt it.” He glared at Burr. “It messes you up when your caretakers take advantage. You don’t get over that.”

Frown lines marred Burr’s forehead. “So, because I was not abused, I will never understand Alexander? So, you’re the better person, is that what you’re saying? God knows I didn’t have a great life either, John. The fuck you know about poverty.”

Laurens ground his teeth and flipped over the sandwiches. “Just grow up, Aaron.” His teeth clicked together when Burr pushed him again. He hit Burr back with the greasy spatula.

“Damn it!” Burr shoved him harder and stared at the grease splotch on his nice shirt. “Why are you—!” He kneed Laurens in the butt and received a kick in the knees.

“I’m making you dinner, fuck off!” Laurens shouted while his face reddened.

Burr stormed off to the bathroom to clean his shirt.

They ate in seething silence, Laurens in the beanbag chair, Burr on his bed.

“Are you staying the night or what?” Burr asked with a snarl.

“You think I want to go back to my dorm room without Alex there?” Laurens snapped. Cheese oozed out his sandwich as his grip tightened. “You think I can ever go in that bathroom again? Do you know what it was like to see him?”

Burr’s lip curled. “Thankfully, I don’t, John.” He moved the few steps to the kitchen and let his plate clatter into the sink. He poured a glass of water. “I’m going to bed. Do what you want.”

A few minutes later, the room went dark.

Laurens remained in the beanbag chair and finished his last few bites. He absentmindedly browsed back and forth through apps on his phone. He got up to use the bathroom and made his way cautiously in the dark to Burr’s bed.

Burr moved over to accommodate him and fell back asleep.

His alarm went off at six and he socked Laurens in the face reaching for his phone on the nightstand. He silenced the noise and lay still and stared at the ceiling.

Laurens rubbed his cheek and rolled onto his stomach.

“I don’t want to go to work,” Burr said. His head still throbbed and made it hard to place anything that had happened yesterday, or was it the day before?

“I think a day off his warranted,” Laurens replied with a yawn.

“I don’t have any paid time off,” Burr explained. “I can’t afford to miss work.”

Laurens turned his head to look at him. “Are you going to be able to focus?

“No.” He rubbed his eyes. “Everyone thought I was sick yesterday so I doubt it’ll be a surprise if I call in.”

“Then call.” His eyes closed. “You need to take care of yourself.”

Burr picked up his phone and found his supervisor’s number.

“I’ve been expecting you to call,” he said. “You looked like hell yesterday, Burr. Get some sleep.”

“Thanks.” Burr hung up and reached over Laurens to put his phone back on the nightstand. He rested his head against Laurens’ back and dozed off. They may have chewed each other out several times but when all was said and done, neither held a grudge over it. Emotions were high, exhaustion overwhelming. But they were still friends.

 

Washington remained at the hospital overnight for observation and to allow him to see his son in the morning without having to travel back and forth.

Hamilton was awake but hardly coherent as nurses moved him from the bed to a wheelchair to take him to the psychiatric ward.

“This isn’t your fault,” Washington said as he held onto Hamilton as long as he could while his wife stroked back his tangled red hair. “Remember that. We don’t blame you. We’re not mad at you. We’ll love you no matter what.”

Tears streamed down Hamilton’s face as he was wheeled away. He didn’t throw a tantrum or scream but the silence ended up being worse.

Lafayette and Jefferson returned to the hospital to take the Washington’s home.

At Mount Vernon, the dogs greeted them with the usual yapping chorus. Muglsey, France, and Potomac quieted down after a few minutes but Potato continued to bark at the door that led into the garage.

As Jefferson and Lafayette helped Washington get comfortable in his recliner and Mrs. Washington got him a drink, Potato ran back and forth between the door and kitchen barking and growling.

“Potato, enough,” Mrs. Washington scolded. She set a glass of ice water on the end table next to the recliner.

Potato howled a sound that would have been funny at any other time.

“Potato, quiet!”

“She’s waiting for Alexander,” Lafayette murmured as the small dog pawed at the door.

When Mrs. Washington tried to pick her up, she growled and snapped at her. No one messed with the dog further and watched as she whined and paced. Her fat little body quivered and her bulging eyes watered.

But after a few minutes, Washington said. “Put her outside, I can’t—” He stopped himself before his voice cracked.

Mrs. Washington booted all the dogs outside where Potato began to howl again.

“Boys,” Washington said, “not to be a bother, but I would rather be upstairs.”

“Not a bother at all,” Jefferson said. “Anything you need, sir.”

He and Lafayette helped him out of the chair. Washington’s steps were slow, his body achy and weak from surgery and a little nauseous from all the medication. Steps were a bad idea but he couldn’t handle staying downstairs and listen to Potato carry on.

It became an even worse idea two steps from the top when he knew he was going to throw up.

Lafayette saw his face go white but there was little time to get a garbage can. “It’s okay, Dad,” he said after he barely avoided being puked on.

Washington wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He forced his legs up the last steps and refused to let the pain show on his face.

“Almost there.”

Both boys knew it would have been easier to carry him but Washington’s pride would never have allowed that. It had taken enough hits as it was.

With relief, Washington sat on the edge of the bed. “Get Mom,” he told Lafayette. “She can help me change.”

Lafayette did as asked and he and Jefferson stayed in the hall and tried not to look at Hamilton’s room as they waited. Downstairs, Potato continued to bark since Mrs. Washington had let her back inside.

The door opened and Mrs. Washington asked Lafayette, “Are you comfortable helping Dad to the bathroom? I’m not strong enough if he falls.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Lafayette said. “Dad’s the one who thinks we can’t handle anything.” He looked at Jefferson. “That generation has too much pride. Like you and I even know what that is.”

“Truth,” Jefferson said. His eyes flickered toward Hamilton’s room and he forced his eyes forward and followed Lafayette into the master bedroom.

They helped Washington stand and got him to the bathroom. Lafayette remained with him to ensure his weak legs didn’t buckle.

Soon, Washington was tucked in bed exhausted and wondering if he would ever recover his dignity. “Thank you, boys.”

“You’re welcome,” Lafayette said his hand remaining on his dad’s arm, all too aware how fragile life was. “I’ll stay home today and help you and Mom out.”

Mrs. Washington nodded. “Thank you, Laf.”

“I’ll come back later,” Jefferson assured. “I need to check on Jemmy.” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Make sure the kids are up, too.”

“How is Eleanor?” Mrs. Washington asked.

“Tired, but she’s fine. Mary Jefferson is watching Reuben.” He rested a hand on Washington’s shoulder. “We’re going to take care of you so don’t fight us.”

A smile touched his face. “Thank you, Thomas.”

As he left Mount Vernon, Jefferson called Burr and received a groggy “Hello?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Jefferson replied. “I was going to leave a message. I thought you’d be at work. How’re you doing?”

“Eh,” Burr mumbled. He sank back down in bed next to Laurens. “I had to call in sick.”

“Were you okay last night?” Jefferson asked. “I meant to call you and see if you wanted to stay with Angelica.”

“John stayed with me.”

“Oh.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Thomas,” Burr scolded with the little energy he had.

“I didn’t say it,” Jefferson grumbled. “Just, Aaron, be careful. Emotions are all over the place.”

“I know.” He stared at the mark he’d left on the back of Laurens’ neck. “How’s Washington?”

Jefferson told Burr about getting him home and settled in. “He’s weak but there’s not like—he’s not going to like—”

“Got it.” Burr yawned. “Call me later.”

“Will do.”

Burr tossed his phone to the foot of the bed and rubbed a hand against Laurens’ back.

“Sleep,” Laurens mumbled to him.

They both dozed back off until close to noon.

Laurens woke first but was too comfortable to move.

Burr rustled beside him. “Are you wake?”

“Yeah.” He rolled onto his back. “I’m starving.”

“Same.”

They got up and staggered about as if they’d spend the night drinking.

Burr made it to the fridge. “What do you want to eat?”

“Something that won’t take long to cook.” Laurens filled a glass with water and chugged.

There were still breakfast sandwiches in the freezer and Burr pulled them out.

Once microwaved, they ate in silence and stared at their phones. Dishes went in the sink and Burr plugged in his phone. “I’m going to shower. Do you want to join?”

“I don’t like standing in the corner freezing,” Laurens said.

“Touché.” Burr headed into the bathroom.

The shower ran for about a minute before the sound triggered Laurens’ memory. His phone clattered to the floor and he stumbled the few steps to the bathroom and threw the door open.

Burr stuck his head around the curtain. “What?”

“Don’t kill yourself,” Laurens panted, hand against his pounding heart. The vision was sharp in his mind: blood running down Hamilton’s wrist as fast as the water could wash it away.

“It’s okay, John,” Burr soothed. “Join.”

He obliged this time and stripped.

Burr let him stand under the hot spray while he shampooed his short, dense curls. Once lathered, he grabbed the shampoo bottle again and squirted a pool twice as large as he would use on his own hair onto his hand. “Bend down a little. I’ll wash your hair.”

“Should I just kneel?” Laurens teased.

“I’m not that short.” He massaged the shampoo into Laurens’ curls, amused to realize his hair fell past his shoulder blades when the curls were wet and stretched.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” Laurens asked. He wiped at the suds rolling down his face.

“He has to be,” Burr said. His heart pounded just at the mere suggestion of the opposite.

“Realistically?” Laurens glanced over his shoulder. “Alex has never been emotionally stable. He’s always been one crisis away from snapping. Stevens was his breaking point.”

“Stevens being mentally ill was his breaking point,” Burr clarified. “He should have just told Alex. Showing him is what traumatized Alex.”

“He clearly didn’t know how to tell.”

“Let me rinse my hair,” Burr paused the conversation.

Laurens let him hog the water. “But Alex didn’t hurt himself until nine months later.”

Burr turned around to face Laurens. “Because he thought he should have been better by now. I think that’s what made him snap, thinking there was no hope that he could recover.” He let Laurens resume standing under the water and grabbed a bottle of conditioner. He squirted a little in his hand and rubbed it into his hair. “How much conditioner do you use, John?”

“A lot.” He chewed on his lip as words he shouldn’t say stole into his mind. “You shouldn’t have stayed with him. You just added to his pain by breaking up with him when it was assumed he’d been in recovery long enough to be stable.”

Burr let out a long grumble in his throat. “Why did I know we couldn’t have a decent conversation?” His nostrils flared. “When was I supposed to leave him?”

Laurens turned around. “Do you hear yourself? When should you have left him? God, Aaron.” He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel.

Burr let the bottle of conditioner clatter against the bottom of the shower. “Fuck you, John!”

Laurens yanked back the shower curtain. “You should have left him a year ago, Aaron. That’s the answer.” His eyes took on a hard sheen. “Why did you stay with him when you knew you didn’t love him? How did that help him? And you think I’m the cold-hearted one.”

Burr tried to shove him but Laurens stepped back. With nothing there to catch his momentum, Burr fell over the edge of the tub and just missed cracking his head against the side of the bathroom counter. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he jumped up and slammed Laurens against the wall.

Having wrestled and taken self-defense classes, Laurens subdued Burr in a few quick moves and twisted his arms back. “I have total control over you right now and I could throw you naked outside if I wanted.” His voice had a vicious purr to it.

“Let go, John,” Burr growled.

“Why did you stay with Alex?” Laurens hissed in his ear. “I know you didn’t want to stay at Mount Vernon. What kept you there?”

Burr turned his head. “Fear.”

Laurens released him.

Burr rubbed at his arms where Laurens’ grip left red marks. “I didn’t want to be solely responsible for myself,” he muttered. “I only have myself to blame now when I fuck up. I wasn’t ready to leave and I knew I couldn’t stay at Mount Vernon if Alex and I weren’t together. It’s not as if I hated him. There just wasn’t any reason to go.”

“What made you change your mind then?” Laurens picked up his clothes off the floor and threw the towel at Burr.

Burr wrapped it around his body as he shivered. “His depression was getting worse. It was a bitch move, I know.” He tried to get Laurens’ sympathy but couldn’t get him to make eye contact. “I couldn’t be around him while he was like that or else I would have attempted to kill myself, too. Self-preservation, John. I had to take care of myself.”

“Like you always do.” Laurens left the bathroom.

Despite his words, he didn’t leave the apartment nor did Burr kick him out. They retreated to their spots—Burr on his bed and Laurens on the beanbag chair—and passed the time in silence on their phones.

Later in the afternoon, Jefferson called with an update.

“Everything is rather messy,” he admitted. “Washington is weak and sick to his stomach. I guess Alexander cried a lot when the nurses took him away.”

Burr kept silent as a knot tightened in his stomach.

“Aaron?”

He hung up.

Across the small room, Laurens looked over when he heard Burr’s phone clatter to the floor. He was on the bed a few seconds later and held Burr as he cried. “Did…”

Burr shook his head and pulled Laurens closer. “I’m sorry,” he choked. “I just don’t understand.”

“I know.” Laurens rubbed his back. “I don’t either. We’ll get through this.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Potato is distraught.

The psychiatric ward was bright, clean, and bare. A few patients sat around tables in the common area and minded their own business. There was a TV and chairs. No pictures on the walls, no decorations of any sort.

The nurse wheeled Hamilton to the room he would share with another young man.

Lafayette had dropped off a few things—clothes and several books—and it gave Hamilton the smallest dose of reality. He changed into the sweatpants—no drawstring—and a t-shirt. He couldn’t wear shoes and was given slip-resistant socks.

“You’ll follow the activity schedule for the day,” the nurse told him. “If you need to use the bathroom, let a nurse know and he or she will unlock it for you.”

Hamilton sat on the edge of the hard bed and buried his face in his hands. Nothing was real. His mind couldn’t focus on any detail, couldn’t remember anything. He was locked in a psych ward and nothing made sense.

“You can have some time to yourself until lunch.”

For an hour, Hamilton sat without moving and his drug-muddled brain only managed to complete one coherent thought: _I failed._

The days were strictly monitored with certain times for waking, meals, arts and crafts, TV, exercise, one-on-one therapy, group therapy, downtime. At first, it was a blessing, as Hamilton couldn’t begin to make a decision no matter how small. Being told when to wake, what to eat, given a puzzle to do or a paper to color, it helped. The biggest annoyance was having to ask to use the bathroom so a nurse could unlock it and ensure—as a suicide risk—he wasn’t behind closed doors for too long.

During the first one-on-one therapy session, his psychiatrist, Brian, observed him in silence for several minutes. He watched Hamilton’s long fingers rub at his arm over the scars already there. He’d fidget, shuffling his feet, twisting his fingers then suddenly seize all movement as if he’d been yelled at to stop. He never looked at Brian nor made a sound.

“You prefer to go by Alexander rather than Alex, don’t you?” Brian asked.

Hamilton shrugged.

“A lot of people generally prefer a nickname.”

Hamilton opened his mouth but words failed to exit.

Brian pushed a crayon and paper toward him.

 _My mom named me Alexander_ , he wrote. _Not Alex._

“I see,” Brian said. “Your mom has always been very special to you.”

A nod as Hamilton fiddled with the crayon.

“I know it’s hard for you to speak right now.” Brian handed him another crayon and watched him scribble with them on the paper. “I can assure you that won’t last forever. We’ll get you comfortable and able to understand what happened. Did you ever contemplate suicide before recently?”

Hamilton shrugged.

“You can tell me.”

He wrote _14_ in red crayon.

“What happened at fourteen?” Brian asked.

After a brief pause, Hamilton’s crayon raced across the paper. _I was in foster care and the dad came into my room and yelled at me saying I had stolen stuff. He took everything out of my room, even my bedding and the clothes I was wearing. I’d been in FC almost a year and sick of shit like that._

“You didn’t see any hope for your future,” Brian said.

_Yeah._

Brian watched the downcast eyes. “Which is how you’ve been feeling recently, isn’t it?”

Hamilton switched to the blue crayon. _I can’t get better._

“You can, Alexander, but you have to have patience, you have to want to, and you have to respect yourself. Can you do that?”

Hamilton shook his head.

“Why not?”

_It’ll repeat again in another ten years._

“Depression does come and go. The key is to understand it and learn how to manage. That’s what you’re here to do. Will you try?”

A shrug.

In the afternoon, there was time to watch TV and quiet time to read or do puzzles. Hamilton opted to sit in his room and stare at the wall.

_I failed._

He unwrapped the bandage around his wrist and stared at the angry red line across his wrist. He knew it was better to cut down and open up the vein but he’d gone across instead and sliced several smaller veins. He picked and squeezed at the scab until it started to bleed.

The door opened and a nurse escorted him to the infirmary to re-bandage his wrist. A note was written on his chart and his door was not allowed to be closed.

***

When he came out of the bathroom, Washington noticed the door open across the hall and the light on. _Alexander is home_ , his tired, jumbled brain told him before real life corrected him. With slow steps, he made his way into his son’s room and found his wife going through the closet, dresser drawers already opened.

“Dear?”

Mrs. Washington stopped her search. “There has to be something,” she said. “He left a clue somewhere that we should have picked up on.”

Washington sat on the bed. “Or he didn’t, Martha.” He rubbed his chest and tried to fight the doubts that crept into his mind. “What do we really know about Alexander? It’s clear now how little we knew about his family history or medical background.”

Mrs. Washington stopped her search and frowned at her husband. “We did everything as we should have done for Alex. He’s been in therapy. It’s not as if we ignored his troubles. Even he didn’t know who his biological father was. We couldn’t have known any of that sooner.”

“Then what are you searching for?” Washington questioned.

She sighed and joined him on the bed. “Proof that we’re not bad parents,” she murmured. “How did we miss how miserable he was?”

Washington wrapped an arm around his wife. He didn’t have an answer. He could say Hamilton was good at hiding his emotions but that was a lie. The boy always wore his pain on his sleeve. They knew about the nightmares, knew about the depression. How could they have missed that their son wanted to end his life? Back in the logical portion of his brain, Washington knew it wasn’t because they were bad parents or that they had even failed Hamilton. Depression changed the brain, made all things hopeless no matter how much the ill person loved his family. But the emotional part of Washington’s brain wanted an answer as much as his wife did, wanted to understand how and why.

“Put his things back in order,” Washington said and kissed his wife’s cheek. “He’ll be back home in a few weeks.” He stood and returned to his bed.

Potato sat in his spot and growled as he approached.

“Not in the mood, you ugly rat,” he said in a tone that betrayed none of his exhaustion and defeat. “Move.”

She stood her ground.

“Martha, get your dog,” he called out.

Mrs. Washington came in but Potato growled at her, too. “Potato,” she scolded mildly. “You need to be nice. Get down.”

The fat Chihuahua remained on the bed.

“Enough nonsense.” Washington’s legs trembled and he needed to lay down. He grabbed his pillow and pushed the dog to the other side of the bed.

Potato snarled and attacked his feet as he lay down.

“Put the dog outside, Martha,” Washington snapped.

“George.” She shook her head at her husband and managed to pick up the angry dog. “I know you’re tired and in pain but be civil. Potato misses Alexander as much as we do.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me.” His tone bit harsher than he’d ever used on his boys, let alone his wife. “Our son tried to kill himself, Martha, and God fucking knows what I’m supposed to do now.”

Mrs. Washington left the room without a word, trembling dog in her arms. She sat in the family room and cried.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Potato has healing powers.

“John!”

Laurens turned around and saw the short girl running toward him.

“What happened?” Bree demanded. “I keep hearing rumors that Mr. Washington had a heart attack? What happened to Alex?”

It was Wednesday and Laurens had ventured back to campus but nothing would get him to go into the downstairs boy’s bathroom.

“Washington did have a heart attack,” Laurens said and adjusted his backpack. “He’s okay. I believe he’s determined to return on Monday.”

“Good.” She bobbed her head but her eyes remained fearful. “Alex?”

Laurens lowered his head and his eyes watered as he said, “He tried to commit suicide.”

Bree pressed a hand against her lips. “No.” A shudder ran through her body. “When?”

“Sunday night.”

She shook her head. “He brought me back to campus. We had dinner at the Washington’s. He seemed happy. No.”

“I know.” He patted Bree’s shoulder. “He’s still in the hospital.”

Bree wiped at her eyes under her glasses. “Why would he do that?”

Laurens swallowed the lump building in his throat. “How much time do you have?”

“I don’t care about class.”

Laurens followed her to her dorm and told her about Mr. Stevens.

“That’s insane.” Bree clutched at the heart charm on her bracelet. “Poor Alex.”

“Everyone takes advantage of him,” Laurens mumbled. “He’s never deserved that.”

“Agreed.” She wiped at her eyes. “What do you—what do you think will happen?”

Laurens rubbed fruitlessly at the moisture growing in his own eyes. “I don’t know. But we have to be strong for the Washington’s and Alexander.”

Bree nodded. “I’ll do what I can, John.”

That evening, Laurens avoided returning to his dorm. He’d been okay in it earlier but how was he supposed to sleep in there? Hamilton’s bed was too cold and empty. He scrolled through his contact list to figure out whom to call but everyone he knew had either graduated or lived off campus. Lee was his only choice and he sent a text.

 _I guess you can sleep on the floor_ , Lee replied.

Laurens accepted the offer.

***

Washington wanted to visit Hamilton on Wednesday but woke nauseous and weak. He spent the morning throwing up and knew he’d look too ill to offer any reassurance to his son. Plus he and Mrs. Washington needed a united front and a tenseness remained.

But by the afternoon, Mrs. Washington brought up soup and crackers and sat in bed with him.

“I’m sorry,” Washington said. “I’ve never been good with things out of my control or anything that concerns Alexander.”

“I know, dear.” Mrs. Washington stroked his hand. “But don’t blame Potato.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He blew on is soup. “Homemade?”

A tired smile touched her face. “Of course, my dear.”

They visited the hospital on Thursday and waited fifteen minutes before the three o’clock visiting hours opened.

In the psychiatric ward, a nurse watched Hamilton color. “Your parents are here to visit.”

Hamilton crumpled his picture up and tossed it on the floor.

“Pick that up, Alexander. We respect all our property.”

In silence, Hamilton got up and retrieved the paper. He smoothed it out on the table and looked at the nurse with a hooded expression.

“Good,” he praised and led Hamilton to the visiting room.

While the room had a couch and armchair, the table and two chairs on either side still made it look like an interrogation room. There were no decorations on the walls, which were painted a pale blue.

The Washington’s sat on the couch and indicated for Hamilton to sit between them. He sat on the armchair instead.

Washington watched his son. The bandage remained secure on his wrist and above that were several pink scars, the rubbing and scratching he’d done unbeknownst to his family. “I know you’re scared, Alexander. You’re unsure and maybe a little embarrassed.” He scooted to the edge of the couch and leaned toward his son. “We will never hold this against you or love you any less. The only thing we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”

“Potato misses you, dear,” Mrs. Washington said in a soft murmur.

His eyes flickered toward them.

“May I hold you, Alexander?” Washington asked.

In response, Hamilton stood.

Washington moved to sit further back on the couch and wrapped his arms around his son as he sat on his lap.

Hamilton’s posture remained stiff, back straight, arms close to his sides and hands clutched in his lap.

Washington’s strong, warm hand rubbed against his back and the tension eased beneath his fingers. “Lafayette sends his love,” he said. His voice thickened and he couldn’t say anything further.

Mrs. Washington’s plump, warm hands covered Hamilton’s and squeezed. Her eyes moistened and she swallowed several times. It took all her strength not to cry. But when the tears spilled down Hamilton’s cheeks, she let go and a sob shook her body.

There was no hope for a dry eye and Washington wrapped an arm around his son and the other around his wife as tears shimmered in his eyes.

While his parents cried because they were heartbroken and missed their son, for Hamilton there was therapy in it that helped center him back to earth, back to his family. Their tears told him they still cared, still wanted him.

The visiting hour was too short and the Washington’s soon had to leave their son amidst fresh tears.

As he fought for composure, Washington asked a nurse, “Has he spoken at all?”

“No,” he said.

“Is that… normal?” He accepted a tissue from his wife.

“It’s not unheard of,” the nurse explained. “Selective mutism is often temporary and a means of protection in patients like this. Alexander feels very vulnerable right now and not speaking is a way to protect himself and have some control over the situation. When he feels safe and confident, he’ll speak.”

Washington nodded and dabbed his eyes. “We’ve never known him to be quiet. It’s almost more alarming than anything else.”

“I understand.” He looked between the couple. “In group therapy yesterday, the patients were asked to name something special to them. Alexander wouldn’t tell us but he wrote ‘potato’ down.”

Mrs. Washington wiped at her nose. “His favorite dog.” She took a shaky breath. “Can we bring her to visit?”

“Of course.”

Fresh tears pooled in her eyes and Washington hugged her.

“Visiting hours are extended on Saturday. You can bring her then. I’ll let Alexander know.”

 

As two o’clock—Saturday visiting hours—crept near, Hamilton gave up on his puzzle and paced the room in his slip-resistant blue socks. He stared at the floor but at the faint but familiar yap, his head snapped up and he ran for the visiting room.

Potato had not appreciated Mrs. Washington buckling her into a harness and complained the entire car ride. Washington sported a small bruise on his hand where her teeth pinched him when he tried to adjust the heat in the car. But as they entered the hospital, the grumpy, biting attitude vanished and her tail wagged. As Mrs. Washington carried her closer to the psychiatric ward, she let out an excited bark and squirmed in Mrs. Washington’s arms.

The visiting room door was opened and Hamilton sped inside. “Potato!”

The fat Chihuahua jumped out of Mrs. Washington’s arms and ran toward him.

Hamilton knelt on the floor and petted her. She peed in her excitement and climbed into his arms. Yips and squeaks abounded as she covered his face in kisses.

“Potato, I love you, too,” sputtered Hamilton. “Don’t put your tongue in my mouth.”

The Washington’s watched from the couch as a familiar light filled their son’s eyes and a relaxed expression settled on his face. They didn’t care that he completely ignored them. They needed a moment to cry over his happiness anyway.

It took ten minutes for Potato even to begin to settle. Finally, Hamilton could hold her snug in his arms and he joined his parents on the couch. While he could coo and talk to Potato, the words to his parents remained locked. Instead, they told him how his friends were and stories about the dogs. The pain in his blue-violet eyes didn’t return.

But when the two hours were up and he had to hand Potato over, the life in his eyes winked out, and he hurried out of the room as the tears spilled down his cheeks.


	15. Chapter 15

Having an apartment seemed like a worthless expense as Jefferson took up residence back at Montpelier to keep Madison company. No one was quite sure what to do with themselves and waited for the evening text update from Washington but that was never more than a short statement to say Hamilton was okay as to protect Hamilton’s privacy.

But he missed the solitude of his own place, especially one evening after he came out of the bathroom only in a towel to find Nelly in her brother’s room.

Nelly’s face went scarlet as she stared at him.

“Yes?” Jefferson asked as he tried to decide whether to cross his arms and risk letting go of the towel or not.

She didn’t answer and fled the room.

The door opened again a moment later and Jefferson ground his teeth in annoyance as he got clothes out of the closet. At least it was his boyfriend that time.

“What’d you do to Nelly?” Madison asked followed by a grin. “Never mind, I would have done the same thing.”

“I thought she had a crush on Aaron now?” Jefferson pulled a shirt off a hanger.

“She can have two crushes.” Madison moved to sit on his bed and check his phone.

“Well, she’s going to die alone if the guys she keeps crushing on are all gay.” He headed for the bathroom.

“You can dress out here,” Madison said.

“Why?” Jefferson asked. “You don’t want to see me naked. There’s a reason people keep their private areas covered. They’re gross.”

Madison rolled his eyes. “You’re killing me.”

And just like that, the reminder that their close friend had tried to end his life hit them once more. Both fell silent, shoulders slumped, minds turned toward darkness. After a few moments, Jefferson locked himself in the bathroom.

When he came out, Madison was on the bed sobbing. “Jemmy, love.” He scooped Madison into his arms. “Everything will be okay.”

“I-I just don’t understand,” Madison cried. He pressed into his boyfriend’s chest.

“I know,” Jefferson soothed. He situated himself on the bed and held Madison.

“Why would he?” Madison rubbed his eyes as he shook. “I’ve been trying to understand.” He sniffled and gripped Jefferson’s shirt. “I’ve almost died before and I know how much it hurt everyone.” He swallowed and made himself smaller. “Alex knew what that felt like. Why would he want to hurt everyone like that?”

“It’s not the same thing,” Jefferson said in a soft voice.

Madison shook his head.

“Jemmy, I know you’ve had some rough years but you’ve never been depressed,” Jefferson explained. “Alexander didn’t do this to hurt anyone. He did it because he’s sick and ran out of options because his brain wouldn’t allow him to think of any new ones.”

“But so many people love him,” Madison whispered. “Didn’t he know that?” He watched Jefferson’s face as a shudder rocked through his slender body.

“I’m sure he did.”

“Then why?” Madison pulled his boyfriend’s arms tight around him.

Jefferson sighed. “I know you have amazing faith in humanity and prefer only to look for unicorns and rainbows but sometimes people’s minds go dark.” He kissed Madison’s head. “It’s not Alexander’s fault and it’s not our fault for not showing him enough love or whatever. Can you still respect Alexander?”

Madison nodded.

“Good, because he needs his friends now more than ever.” Jefferson cuddled him. “The two of you have a sweet bond. He’s going to need your quirky personality to distract him from reality.”

Madison tilted his head back. “You think I’m quirky?”

Jefferson chuckled and indicated around the bedroom at the shelves full of stuffed animals and the pictures of unicorns on the wall. “It’s why I love you.”

***

“Mr. Burr, did you know that it’s after seven?”

Burr glanced up from his computer to see his boss’ wife Theodosia standing on the other side of his short cubicle divider.

She was an elegant woman ten years older than Burr was and dressed in a stylish skirt and blazer. Her brown hair was twisted up and held with a large clip. She went bold with her lipstick but subtle with the rest of her makeup. Her flowery perfume wafted around her. She looked as perfect now as she had at eight in the morning.

“No, ma’am,” Burr admitted and just now felt the gritty fatigue in his eyes.

“Most men can’t wait to get out of here at the end of the day.” Theodosia came around his cubicle and pulled up a chair. “Nothing worth going home to?”

Burr shrugged and tried to remain the aloof, non-sharing employee. But her wide, dark eyes drew him in and before he knew it, he was telling her about Hamilton, although with the avoidance of them having dated.

“Oh, wow.” Theodosia touched a finger to her lips. “I don’t know what to say.”

Burr ground his teeth. “Sorry, you didn’t need to hear all that.” He clicked out of several tabs on his computer. “I should head home.”

“I think you needed to tell someone that.” She touched his shoulder. “You’re twenty-one, right? I’ll take you out for a drink.”

“I couldn’t.” Burr finished exiting out of everything and pushed his chair back.

“You’re not twenty-one,” Theodosia said.

“I am.” He avoided eye contact as heat flooded his face. “I just—I’m not good company. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t be any fun.” He stood and reached for his coat hanging on the wall beside his desk. “Thank you for the offer.”

Theodosia blocked his exit and touched his shoulder again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Burr’s lips drew thin as he tugged at his collar, amazed that his face could get even hotter. “No—no, I…” He didn’t have an excuse without spilling even more of his pathetic life story. She didn’t need to know about his horrible ability to connect with people and always read them wrong. He had known her offer wasn’t a “date” and her clarifying it wasn’t made it sound even more inappropriate and made him want to say yes even more.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Burr, but let me know if you ever need someone to talk to.” Theodosia squeezed his shoulder and walked away.

Burr tugged his coat on and muttered, “Shit.” He pulled out his phone as he headed for the exit and texted Angelica, _I can’t read people. I need advice._

Angelica was quick to respond. _What happened?_

He texted as he walked home, writing out the conversation as best as he could remember it. _What were her intentions?_

 _I think she was being a nice boss’ wife and wanting to get to know you_ , Angelica replied. _I’m like 90% sure she was not trying to get in your pants._

_Okay and if I wanted to?_

_Aaron Burr!_

Burr sent back a winking face.

 _You better have been kidding_ , Angelica shot back. _She’s married. Please, tell me you are not considering this._

 _I’m not._ But he wasn’t entirely sure if that was a lie or not.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brrr... Burr

Washington wanted to return to teaching on Monday but his wife managed to persuade him to wait until Wednesday, as he remained weak and quick to tire. It gave him more time to visit the hospital anyway.

On Tuesday, Mrs. Washington had to babysit the Madison children and he went alone.

“But why haven’t the Madison’s found a new nanny?” he asked his wife as she prepared to leave. “It’s been over a year since their previous one left, hasn’t it?”

“You know Jim is frugal,” Mrs. Washington said.

“Ah, yes, and they are not paying you.” He smiled.

She playfully swatted his arm. “We don’t have any foster children and you know I have the time and don’t mind. Give Alexander my love.”

“Of course.” He kissed her goodbye.

When he prepared to leave that afternoon, Potato barked at him from the couch.

“Yes, I know,” Washington told her. “You give your love to Alexander, too. If you wouldn’t bite me, I might have considered taking you with me.”

She growled at him.

“Ornery beastie.”

In the visiting room, Hamilton walked in cautiously, a piece of paper in his hand.

“There’s my boy,” Washington said. “Mom’s babysitting today but she sends her love. Potato does, too. What do you have there?”

Hamilton made it across the room and handed over the picture he drew. The entire paper was covered with color done in crayon. Red, orange, and yellow sky across the top, blue and purple mountains in the middle, green and yellow hills on the bottom with dots of pink for flowers.

“This is lovely, Alexander.” He patted the couch for Hamilton to sit. “You’re getting quite artistic.”

A faint smile touched Hamilton’s face as he sat. “Will you put it on the fridge at home?” he whispered.

“Of course.” It was easy not to make a show of Hamilton speaking since the quiet was more unusual. It wouldn’t even occur to Washington until he left that his boy talked to him. “Mom will love to see it.” He set the picture on the floor so it wouldn’t get wrinkled. “I’m going back to work tomorrow but Mom will visit and I can come on Thursday between classes.”

Hamilton nodded.

“Did you get started on your schoolwork?”

“Yeah.” His psychiatrist decided an hour in the morning and another hour in the afternoon of catching up on assignments would be beneficial to him. Washington got it all figured out through the college to get Hamilton caught up. With only one semester to go, they remained optimistic that he could graduate on time, especially since he’d nearly completed his final paper back in his junior year.

“Don’t overwhelm yourself with it,” cautioned Washington.

“I’m only given a little at a time.” His voice remained quiet.

“Good.” Washington wrapped an arm around him. The world normalized the tiniest bit once Hamilton relaxed against him. “Your friends have been asking to see you. Would you be comfortable with any of them visiting you?”

Hamilton thought for a minute and murmured, “Thomas or James.”

“I’ll let Thomas know.” Washington stroked Hamilton’s chest. “I know James wants to see you but it may be too overwhelming for him. You know how sensitive he is.”

Hamilton nodded. “I’ll draw a picture for him so he knows I’m okay.”

“He would love that.”

They talked about the dogs, although Washington was careful not to outright mention his annoyance with Hamilton’s favorite.

“I know you love Potato,” Washington said, “and she’s therapeutic to you, but would you like your own dog? Something younger and less angry? I know having something to be responsible for can help with healing.”

“Maybe,” Hamilton said. “But I wouldn’t want Potato to be jealous.”

“Think about it.”

The hour always went by too fast.

Washington hugged his son tight. “I love you very much.”

“I love you, too,” Hamilton whispered.

Fighting tears, Washington signed out and spoke to Hamilton’s nurse. “He’s talking.”

“He just started yesterday in group therapy,” the nurse said. “We’re pleased with his progress.”

A sigh slipped out and Washington closed his eyes briefly. “Thank goodness.”

 

When Washington returned to his office the next day, he found Laurens in wait in the hallway.

“Good morning, John,” Washington said. He unlocked the door and let Laurens inside. “What can I help you with?”

“How’s Alex?” Laurens asked. He stood near the desk as Washington took his seat.

“He’s getting better,” Washington said. “He’s learning how to cope and he’s talking again.”

Laurens’ posture relaxed. “Good. Is there any chance I could see him?”

“I’ll ask.” He couldn’t offer any certainty, though, since Hamilton hadn’t mentioned him. While Washington thought Hamilton still considered Laurens his best friend, he knew his son had more apprehension about seeing him. One, because Laurens had been the one to find him after the attempt, and two, because their relationship had a more intimate level and with Hamilton, there would be a stronger need to keep up appearances that he was well. With Jefferson and Madison, he had an easier time showing his vulnerability.

 “Thanks.” Laurens remained by the desk.

“You look tired,” said Washington, not that himself looked any better. Both had dark circles under their eyes, pale faces, and a hard time maintaining eye contact from the fatigue.

“Yeah, well...” Laurens rubbed his neck. “I’ve been sleeping on the floor in Lee’s room.”

“You can switch rooms, John,” Washington reminded him. “Alexander won’t return to the dorm. I’m sure you can easily find a guy that’ll jump at the chance to have a super single and you can room with someone upstairs. I can task the housing—”

“No, sir,” Laurens cut him off. “I can talk to the housing administrator and get that approved. I hadn’t been sure if I could change dorms.”

“It won’t be a problem.”

Some tension eased from Laurens’ face. “Good.”

As he left Washington’s office, Laurens received a text from Burr.

_I haven’t heard from anyone in two days. How is Alex?_

_Talking again_ , Laurens typed and hit send. He watched his phone in wait of Burr’s reply but nothing further came through. He knew Burr was bad with emotional situations and he and Hamilton had broken up rather harshly but he still found it hard to understand how Burr could push himself away from it all. He would check on him, Laurens decided.

Once he promised Lee he would soon refrain from sleeping on his floor, Lee let Laurens borrow his van to visit Burr.

An icy wind blew while he waited outside the apartment building. He popped up the collar of his gray peacoat, thankful that his aunt had the money to buy him a decent coat since he had left most of his clothes behind at his parent’s house.

He buzzed again and called Burr. “Hey, can you let me in? It’s freezing outside.”

“Fine.” Burr hung up. Two minutes later, he opened the front door and led Laurens upstairs to his apartment. “What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” He rubbed his chilled hands together. Burr’s apartment wasn’t a whole lot warmer and he kept on his coat.

“Work keeps me busy,” Burr said. He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and sat on the edge of his bed. “What else am I supposed to do?”

Laurens tucked his hands in his pockets. “Have you reached out to Washington at all?”

“Why?” Burr tugged at his ear and refused eye contact.

Head cocked, Laurens stared at him. “To show you give a fuck about Alex?”

Burr kept his head turned away. “I wouldn’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do with this situation, John. Alex tried to kill himself. How do we move past that? It’s easier to stay away.”

“And harder to return, Aaron.” He plucked at his bottom lip. “I get it. I’m unsure what to do, too, but Alex means everything to me. If I’m not there for him now then I might as well walk away forever. This is when he needs his friends the most. His true friends. Is that not you?”

“Apparently not.” Burr pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “Can you go, John?”

“No,” Laurens said and moved closer to the bed. “I know you struggle with depression and I don’t want you to consider killing yourself, too. Understand I’m not trying to make you feel bad but to see how your attitude might look to Washington or Alex. They’re not going to forget that you weren’t there when they needed you.”

“I was there at the hospital, John.” Burr managed to meet his eyes for a few seconds. “Now, I have to take care of myself. Washington would understand that.”

Laurens touched the blanket. “Are you suicidal?”

Burr met his gaze. “No. But I would like to be alone. I had a long day at work.”

“Okay.” Laurens found his shoulder under the blanket and squeezed. “May I text you tomorrow?”

“Please do.”

Burr saw him out and locked the door. He returned to his bed and burrowed under the blankets. Blankets were cheaper than turning up the heat in the apartment. Under his cocoon, he replied to a text he’d received right after Laurens’ called.

_You’re right; I could use someone to talk to._

A reply came a few seconds later. _I’ll take you out to lunch._

_Thanks, Theodosia._


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visiting

Jefferson skipped class on Friday to visit Hamilton. While he had seen Madison in the hospital countless times, he remained apprehensive and worried he’d say something insensitive or stupid. He was also not prepared enough to witness Hamilton’s subdued, insecure shuffle into the room.

His friend remained by the door and Jefferson had to act fast to push back the discomfort. “Hey, bud. Jemmy sends you lots of hugs,” he said his voice higher than usual. “How are you?”

“Okay,” Hamilton whispered.

“I heard the debate team sucks without you. We both know Lee can’t do shit. They’ll be glad to have you back soon.”

“I’m not going to debate anymore,” said Hamilton with his gaze on the floor.

“Oh, really?” Jefferson raised an eyebrow, grateful his voice was returning to its usual pitch. “Then you won’t debate me about Chihuahuas? Because I think they suck and no one can prove otherwise.”

Hamilton glanced up. “You’re wrong.”

“They’re mean.”

“They’re protective and small,” countered Hamilton and his voice grew louder.

Jefferson watched him step closer. “They hate people.”

“They’re only loyal to a few.” Hamilton met his friend’s eyes. “They are extremely loyal and that can be their only flaw.”

“They’re ugly.” A grin tugged at Jefferson’s lips.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Hamilton sat next to him. “Not everyone can be a beauty queen. Chihuahua’s have beautiful eyes.”

Jefferson cocked his head. “Yeah, if you like eyes that look like they’re about to pop out of their tiny heads.”

“Perhaps some people do.” Hamilton climbed on him. “I’ve missed you.”

Jefferson brushed his lips against his friend’s messy hair. “Same. Are you doing okay?”

“Getting there.” Hamilton listened to Jefferson’s heartbeat. “Being here is actually helping. I’m not afraid anymore.”

“I’m glad, Alexander.” Jefferson squeezed him. “Jemmy brought you a book about mythical creatures and weird animals. He thought you’d like it. Your nurse said he’d put it in your room.”

“Cool,” Hamilton said. “I need something new to read.” He remained in Jefferson’s arms as they grew quiet. After several minutes he asked, “How’s law school?”

“Harder, yet easier, than college,” he said. “It’s nice being able just to focus on law but the pressure is on to remember everything because I have to know it.”

“But it’s the stuff you’re good at.”

Jefferson smiled at him. “Thanks. I’ll help you out as much as I can when you go to law school, too. You can learn from my mistakes.”

“I appreciate it.”

***

Hamilton was allowed fifteen-minute phone calls twice a week and began using them to talk to Madison. The first few minutes of the first call were full of pauses and mumbles of asking how each other was until Madison asked if Hamilton had a chance to read the book he had Jefferson give him.

“It’s awesome!” Hamilton gushed. “Thank you. It’s been keeping me very entertained.”

At once, talk flowed between them with ease as they discussed unicorns and phoenixes. The fifteen minutes ended too soon.

The next call, the conversation continued. As they both had strong, visual brains, they created a game similar to Battleship involving mythical creatures and played verbally. It was what Hamilton needed, an escape from reality and a conversation that didn’t revolve around his mental state. Madison, having spent much time hospitalized himself was the one to understand that—after Jefferson had talked to him—and offer that break. Hamilton didn’t pressure him to visit, though, as he knew how sensitive his friend was and they would both just cry. The phone conversations were better therapy.

 

Near the end of the third week, Washington received the best surprise when he walked into the visiting room.

“Dad!” Hamilton jumped around him. “I’ve organized debate teams in group therapy. Our first topic is narwhals versus unicorns. We’re using the book James brought me. Everyone’s excited.”

Washington could only laugh. “You are amazing, Alexander.” He hugged him tight and wished for the strength to pick him up but his own recovery continued with multiple setbacks mostly with regaining any useable energy. He watched the life sparkle back in his son’s eyes. He knew a bumpy road remained ahead but there was hope and optimism.

While they played cards to help take their minds off the institutional vibe of the room, Hamilton asked, “Can Lafayette visit?”

“I’m sure he’d like to,” Washington said as he tossed down a ‘draw four’ card.

“Fuck.” He added four cards to his previously almost winning hand.

Washington raised an eyebrow. “Really, Alexander? Is the language necessary?”

“Yes?” Hamilton gave an innocent smile.

To see that smile, though, Washington had to return it.

He called Lafayette on his way home. “Your brother would like you to visit.”

Silence filled the line.

“Laf?”

“Sorry,” Lafayette mumbled. “I don’t know, Dad.” He paused. “I was with him in the hospital and that was bad enough. I don’t know if I can see him in a psych ward.”

“He’s your brother,” said Washington in a firm tone. “He needs to know you support him.”

“I know.” Lafayette sighed. “But I can’t. I’m sorry, Dad.” He hung up.

***

Washington kept quiet about Lafayette’s refusal and gave Hamilton excuses for his brother’s delay. Hamilton accepted it and asked to see Laurens instead.

Washington and Jefferson made sure Laurens knew what to expect going into the psychiatric ward and how Hamilton might act.

“Talking to you might be hard,” Jefferson told him. “Just be patient and understanding but don’t baby him or talk down to him.”

“What should I talk about?” Laurens asked and twisted a curl around his finger.

“He’s been wanting to know about school,” Washington offered. “You can talk about debate.”

“Anything I shouldn’t talk about?”

“No,” Washington said.

“Probably not Mr. Stevens,” added Jefferson, “But I hope that should be obvious.”

“Or,” Washington paused, “probably not mention you had to move upstairs to room with Lee again.”

Laurens nodded. He tugged at the laces on his hoodie. “I’m nervous.”

“That’s understandable.” Washington rested a hand on his shoulder. “The important thing to remember is he is still Alexander. He’s not damaged or weak. Do your best to treat him as you always have.”

Even with the instructions and knowing how hesitant Hamilton might be at first, Laurens still fumbled to greet him as his friend slipped in and watched the floor.

The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to get louder by the second. Laurens was certain Hamilton could hear his own heartbeat across the room. “Do you want to sit?” he mumbled.

Hamilton shook his head.

“Okay, um.” Laurens picked at a hangnail. “So, Lee sucks at debate. We’re losing, like, all of them.” He glanced up to see Hamilton watching him. “Like, he’s so bad we couldn’t even win a history debate.”

“Wow,” Hamilton whispered.

“Right? Lafayette was furious. He had practically fed Lee every word and he still couldn’t deliver.”

With shuffling steps, Hamilton made it to the couch and sat.

“Cool socks,” Laurens said.

Hamilton held up his feet to show off the blue non-skid socks. 

“So, um,” Laurens touched Hamilton’s arm. “I know when you go home you’ll have a safety plan in case you feel, um, suicidal again.” He grimaced saying the word but Hamilton didn’t flinch. “I’d like if you would consider me one of your contacts if you need help. I know Washington would be your first, and Thomas and James, too, but if—”

Hamilton squeezed Laurens’ hand. “That means a lot to me, Jack.”

The tension released from Laurens’ shoulders and his posture slumped. “I was so scared, Alex.” A shimmer grew in his eyes. “I want to know how I can help you more. I know it’s not your fault nor should I blame myself but I want to be here for you. I don’t want you to feel alone.”

Hamilton wiped at his eyes. “I know it doesn’t make sense,” his voice remained soft. “Having Dad and friends and stuff, why I would—”

“I get it,” Laurens interrupted. “You don’t have to explain. I-I did some research and I read that your brain constricts your thoughts and you lose the ability to see that there are other options. It doesn’t matter what you have in your life. How you felt was still valid and your brain gave you no other choices. You’ve been through a lot. I only have the greatest respect for you, Alexander. I know I’ve been a shit and promised I’d do better before but I will do better, I promise. You’re not alone.”

Hamilton rested his head on Laurens’ shoulder. “Good, because I need you. Thomas and James are great and will be a big help to me but I need your friendship, too. You understand me the best.”

Laurens stroked his cheek. “Can I ask something that may hurt? You don’t have to answer.”

“Go ahead.”

“Has Aaron reached out to you at all?”

Hamilton shook his head, eyes closed. “I told Dad I didn’t want to see him. I don’t want to lose him forever and when I’m strong enough I’ll contact him but right now it wouldn’t help me.”

“Sometimes it’s hard for depressed people to help someone else with depression,” Laurens murmured.

“I know.” Hamilton rubbed his nose. “I don’t hold it against him. Aaron isn’t good with emotions and he staying away is kind of his thing. It’s a bit of a relief to have him at a distance.”

“The three of us as a group should never have hung out together.”

“No, shit.” Hamilton lifted his head. “I’m ready to put the past in the past for once. In therapy, I’ve been learning to live in the present. I’m going to start fresh and live life the way I need to.”

A soft smile touched Laurens’ face. “I’m glad to hear that, Alexander. You deserve to leave the chains behind.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr...

Work became Burr’s distraction from reality and he thrived at it. He enjoyed the tasks given to him even if some were a bit menial, but every project was a step forward. His supervisor liked him and was willing to help and advise him. His boss, Mr. Prevost, let him have the overtime he wanted and Theodosia always had a smile for him.

He worked late as often as he could. Half for the money and half because his apartment was freezing and he didn’t want to turn up the heat and pay for it when he was never home anyway. 

It was after seven now, the majority of daytime employees gone and the cleaning crew started to arrive. 

Without the chatter of co-workers or the intercom, Burr could achieve more to the hum of a vacuum cleaner down the hall. The click of high heels interrupted his typing and he looked over his cubicle to see Theodosia, paper bag and bottle of water in hand. 

“Working late again, Mr. Burr?” she asked and set the bag and bottle on his desk.

“Yeah,” Burr said. “I wanted to get this done.” 

She stood behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders. “Wow, you’re completely redoing the format.” 

“Well, what my supervisor wanted wasn’t feasible in a workable manner.” He glanced at the bag and wondered if it was for him. He ordered his stomach not to growl.

Theodosia massaged his shoulders, her long, manicured fingernails digging into his skin. “It looks like you’re on the right path.”

“Thanks.” He stared at the screen unable to work with her standing behind him.

“There’s a sandwich in the bag for you,” Theodosia said and let go of him. “Try not to stay here too late, Mr. Burr.” She smiled at him as she walked away.

Burr’s face softened and he grinned as he called out a thank you. From the bag, he pulled out a ham and cheese sandwich loaded with veggies, and a cup of fruit. He should have known anything she brought him would be healthy. But free food was food and he couldn’t remember the last time he ate any fruit and figured his body would thank him for nourishing it for once.

A half hour later, Theodosia returned and dropped a handful of dark chocolates on his desk.

“Thank you,” Burr said and met her dark eyes. “I promise I won’t stay much longer.”

She chuckled. “You’re dedicated. I could definitely use you on my staff when my law firm is up and running in a few more months.”

Burr looked away and tried to stop his heart from pounding so hard. She could hardly give him—with his little experience—a decent position and he didn’t hate his current job. But if he could move up the ladder already... He unwrapped a piece of chocolate to give himself something on which to focus.

“How is everything going outside of work?” Theodosia asked. She sat down behind him and pulled out her phone.

“Eh.” Burr popped the chocolate in his mouth.

“Your friend is still in the hospital?”

Burr nodded as he swallowed the chocolate.

“That’s too bad,” she said with a sad sigh.

The screen went out of focus as Burr blinked his tired eyes. He ate another piece of chocolate and finished part of his project. He closed everything down and told Theodosia, “I’m ready to call it a night.”

“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Burr.” She stood. “Let me grab my coat and purse and I’ll walk out with you.”

Burr agreed and tidied up his desk and put on his coat. 

As they walked outside, Theodosia asked, “Where are you parked?”

“I always walk,” Burr said. “I only live a few blocks away.”

“Not acceptable,” Theodosia said and slipped her arm through his. “It is much too cold and dark. I’ll drive you.”

Protesting would be fruitless judging by her tone and Burr agreed.

Her car was already running and warm. Burr gave directions and was glad his apartment building wasn’t too shabby but also thankful it was too dark to see much.

“Thank you,” he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Burr.”

Burr closed the passenger door and pulled out his keys. Upstairs, he hovered near the thermostat fighting within himself over whether to turn it up above sixty or not.

No, he decided. He’d be going to bed anyway and his blankets would keep him warm.

The next morning, he shivered through getting ready and hoped a glass of milk and half a bagel with peanut butter would keep him full until lunchtime and hoped the hot pocket would do the trick until dinner. 

He clocked in at work and began the morning routine of printing an entire tree worth of paper and stapling it together. Around nine, he received a text from Laurens: _Doing anything tonight? Maybe we could get dinner?_

Burr thought about blowing him off right away and say he had to work late but decided to give himself an option to agree later. _I might have to work late but I’ll let you know this afternoon._

_Okay._

He knew Laurens wanted to check up on him since Burr couldn’t convince him that he dealt with emotions fine on his own. Dinner wouldn’t be the _worst_ thing and maybe Laurens was in need of sex as much as he was.

The day moved along at a decent pace but Burr found it harder to focus as five o’clock neared. Should he stay late again to avoid Laurens? Lie to him and leave on time? Say yes? The fact that Laurens hadn’t pestered him all day for an answer worked in his favor but Burr still hadn’t made up his mind as he clocked out. But as he walked outside and a cold wind and spring snow hit him in the face, he knew an evening alone tonight would suck more than usual.

 _Just got off work_ , he texted Laurens and waited to see how he’d respond.

Laurens replied within a minute. _Cool! I can meet you at your place and we can decide where to go._

_Okay. Give me like a half hour._

Going out to eat would make it harder to get Laurens inside his apartment. He walked a block out of his way to a liquor store and bought two bottles of wine with a voucher Theodosia had given him.

Once home, he checked that he still had a pizza in the freezer—he did. Figuring Laurens would be close Burr sent him another text. _Running behind, come upstairs._

It wasn’t long before his phone rang and Burr buzzed him into the building. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it and his undershirt aside when Laurens knocked on the door. He let Laurens in with an apology. “My boss’ wife stopped me right after I texted you and I just got home.”

“No problem,” Laurens said with half a glance at Burr’s bare chest.

“You want a drink?” Burr asked and pointed to the bottles on the counter. 

“Sure.” Laurens started to unbutton his coat and changed his mind. He opened one bottle while Burr stripped off his dress pants and put on jeans and a hoodie. “Did you want to go out to eat?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Burr lied. “I might have a pizza if you want to stay in where it’s warm.”

“Warm is debatable,” Laurens said with a grin.

Burr chuckled. “True.” He grabbed one of the blankets off his bed and wrapped it around Laurens’ shoulders. He pulled the pepperoni pizza out of the freezer and received Laurens’ approval. “How’s school?” he asked as he turned on the oven.

“Lasting forever,” Laurens groaned. “Graduation can’t come soon enough.”

“Do you have a job lined up?” Burr asked.

Laurens pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “No, but I can still work as a waiter until something shows up. You got lucky, Aaron.”

“Well...” Burr indicated around at the tiny, cold room. “Not like I’m making much more than minimum wage at the moment. Overtime is the only thing keeping me afloat.” He shook his head and changed the subject from the woes of money. “Debate getting any better?”

“Nope. Lee is the worst.” He spun his phone on the counter. “Bree and Lafayette are good researchers but even they can’t make Lee get his point across. I don’t know how the rest of us carried his weight before and won. We only have one chance left to advance.”

“That sucks,” Burr sympathized. “Our sophomore year is seriously where we peaked.”

“No, shit.”

The oven beeped and Burr stuck in the pizza.

Laurens indicated to the wine bottle he opened several minutes ago. “Have any cups?”

Burr chuckled. “Yeah, sorry.” He grabbed two glasses and filled them.

After a sip, Laurens licked his lips and nodded. “This is good.” He studied the bottle. “Isn’t this pricey?”

“Yeah.” Burr told him about Theodosia and how her sophisticated conversations once led to wine and he admitted he’d never had anything other than ten-dollar bottles. “She gave me a voucher for this stuff. Now I can tell her that she was right and ten-dollar wine sucks.”

Once the pizza was ready, they took their plates and cups and got warm under the blankets on Burr’s bed.

“How have you been doing?” Laurens asked.

Burr shrugged. “My ex did try to kill himself. I’m just trying to keep busy.”

Laurens squeezed his hand. “Have you thought about talking to anyone?”

“That’s not for me.” Burr stuffed pizza in his mouth.

“Okay, but long term?” Laurens questioned. “Are you going to avoid Alexander forever? If you can’t confront this for yourself, how—”

“John,” Burr butted in, “I invited you in instead of going out so we can have sex not to have a deep discussion. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Laurens reached for his wine. “You’ll have to get me drunk, though. I’m on Alexander’s side, not yours.”

“I’m horny and you’re good enough in bed that I don’t care whose side you’re on.”

One bottle of wine down, Laurens didn’t push away Burr’s advances. It was a distraction, something to get his heart racing and push the worries and stresses away for a little bit. It was a warm body to spend the night with and not wake from a nightmare at two in the morning and convinced you’d find your best friend dead on the floor from a slashed wrist.

But when Burr’s alarm went off at six-thirty, Laurens was quick to get out of bed. He dressed and left before Burr’s hungover brain could contemplate morning.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamilton comes home!

Just shy of a month, Hamilton returned home.

Washington helped Hamilton get settled back in his room. After Laurens moved back upstairs with Lee, he’d packed up Hamilton’s things from the dorm and put away what he could in Hamilton’s bedroom.

“Remember that the first few days are going to be hard,” Washington said as he watched his son stare around his room once they put everything away. “Mom or I will be home with you. Your psychiatrist wants you to check in with us throughout the day and let us know if you get overwhelmed.”

“I’m overwhelmed,” Hamilton whispered and rubbed his stinging eyes.

“I’m here.” Washington held him close. “It’s okay to cry. I know this is scary.” He patted his son’s back as his shoulder shook. “We don’t have to do anything today except survive. Deep breathes. When you’re ready, we’ll go downstairs and watch a movie. Jemmy let us borrow _Moana_ ; he said you liked that one.”

Hamilton bobbed his head as he sniffled. “I want to be better,” he choked out.

“I know.” Washington eased him away and watched the teary face. “And you will be. Right now, you are so much stronger than you were a month ago. In another month, you’ll be even stronger. Have patience and understanding for yourself.” He wiped at Hamilton’s tears. “There will be bad days but the important thing to remember is that those days will pass, even when that doesn’t seem likely. A bad day or a bad week doesn’t mean you have failed.”

Hamilton nodded and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I expect too much of myself,” he murmured. 

“Anxiety can do that.” Washington kissed his head. “Take it a day at a time, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Downstairs, Washington tucked Hamilton snug on the couch and made hot chocolate and filled a plate with cookies Mrs. Washington had made yesterday. When he returned, Potato was cuddled next to Hamilton. She didn’t growl when Washington sat down or even when he wrapped an arm around his son. She drew the line at him reaching for a cookie, though, which made Hamilton giggle.

Mrs. Washington made lasagna and garlic bread for dinner and the family talked throughout the meal. First about Hamilton’s safety plan for the next few days to ensure Hamilton knew he would be okay and not alone at any time. Then about taking a drive upstate to buy candy and get out of town for a day. 

“Can Potato come with?” Hamilton asked.

Washington thought about every time the angry dog was in the car and he almost lost a finger. “I would say yes but she would have to stay in the car when we go into the candy store. I don’t think she would like that.”

“True,” Hamilton said. He reached for another piece of garlic bread. “Could Laf come with us instead? I don’t think he would mind waiting in the car.”

Washington chuckled.

“I’m sure he’d love to come with,” Mrs. Washington said with a shake of her head at her men. “We’re not leaving him in the car, though.

After dinner, Washington called Lafayette from his office and gave the request. “You can’t avoid your brother forever.”

“I know.” Lafayette sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll go with you guys. But what if I say something insensitive?”

“Like what?” Washington questioned. “Unless you plan to make a tasteless joke about cutting or depression, I imagine you’ll be fine.”

Lafayette grimaced at his dad’s biting tone. “You’re right. He’s my brother and I can be myself.”

“Good boy.” Washington told him goodnight and hung up.

A few hours later, he hovered in the doorway to Hamilton’s room while he got ready for bed. “Do you want me to stay?”

Hamilton nodded but kept his back turned to hide the fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. He knew his parents would support him a hundred percent but he hated how much he needed to cry to get through the day. But he’d gotten through one day, the first day, the hardest day. He could do this.

A few minutes later, Washington returned and got in bed.

Hamilton moved close to him and squeezed his eyes shut.

“You were very brave today, Alexander,” Washington said in a soft voice. “I’m very proud of you. We’ll take each day as it comes, okay?”

“Okay,” Hamilton whispered.

Once he was certain Hamilton was asleep, Washington rolled away and lay on his back and let the hot, exhausted tears spill down the sides of his cheeks.

 

The last breath of winter air left and a balmy morning dawned as the family got ready to head an hour away upstate. The candy store made Mrs. Washington’s favorite caramels and Washington’s peanut clusters. They had taken Lafayette once before but never Hamilton.

Lafayette gave a good morning as he got in the backseat of the Cadillac. 

Mrs. Washington asked how he was and chatter flowed back and forth between them for a few minutes.

He stole a few glances at his brother but didn’t know what to say and silence other than the radio filled the car.

“Laf,” Washington broke the unease, “tell Alexander about the last debate.”

“Um, we actually didn’t suck,” said Lafayette speaking to his hands. “Bree was amazing.”

Washington glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “Tell him what she did.”

Lafayette looked at Hamilton to find him intent but with a worried smile. “She, like, held the whole team together.” He licked his lips and struggled for words. “Um, Lee was being his usual pathetic self and she, like, got him to mirror her facial expressions and actually put some life in his voice. We came in third.”

“I knew Bree was awesome,” Hamilton said.

“Yeah, she is,” agreed Lafayette. “Oh, she gave me something to give you.” He leaned sideways to pull a small package out of his pocket.

It was wrapped in white copy paper, well taped. Hamilton struggled for an opening and picked at the tape until he succeeded. He pulled out a blue heart-shaped bead on a length of braided embroidery floss. “Aw, she’s so sweet.” He held out his right arm and the bracelet to Lafayette. “Can you tie it on?”

Lafayette hesitated to touch his wrist even though he knew the scar was on his left. But he didn’t want to let his brother down and realized Hamilton would notice his unease soon if he hadn’t already. He tied on the bracelet. “Looks great.”

“Yeah.” Hamilton admired the plastic bead and perfect braid.

Silence filled the car again and the boys watched out the window for any hints of spring in the drab, muddy landscape.

The candy store was in an old cottage redesigned to look like a gingerbread house. More quaint businesses lined the street with old but well-maintained houses across the brick road.

Washington found a place to park a few houses down and the family walked to the candy store.

Inside, the scent was sweet and thick. The lighting had a warm glow and made the room inviting and secure.

Hamilton took a deep breath as his eyes took in wooden buckets of wrapped candy, baskets of homemade treats, and a long counter with dozens of goodies in the glass case beneath.

“Get whatever you want,” Washington told them as an older woman greeted them. He and his wife chatted with her as the boys looked around at opposite ends of the room.

After chatting with the owner for ten minutes, Washington noted the continued disconnect between his boys. He caught their attention and pointed to the buckets of taffy. “Fill a bag.”

Forced into the same area, the boys remained quiet as they looked over their options. 

“Pineapple sounds interesting,” Hamilton mumbled and grabbed a few pieces. 

Lafayette dropped in a few pieces of maple sugar taffy and held out the bag. “Cherry?”

“Yeah,” Hamilton agreed.

“Here, hold the bag.” Lafayette tried to hand over the plastic bag but Hamilton already had his right hand full of candy and a reluctance to remove his left from his pocket. 

“It’s okay, Alexander,” Lafayette murmured.

Hamilton grabbed the bag with his left hand, dropped in his handful of taffy and quickly switched it to his right as he tugged at his sleeve, even though it hadn’t ridden up any. 

“Are you doing okay?” Lafayette asked, voice still soft.

“I think so.” Hamilton glanced up at him but couldn’t maintain eye contact. “Are you? You never came to visit.”

“Is it okay if I’m not?” he said as his brow knitted.

Hamilton nodded. “I can talk about it if you have questions.”

Lafayette picked through one of the buckets. “Do you know why you did it?”

“I ran out of hope.” Hamilton added a few pieces of vanilla taffy to the bag. “I was sick. I didn’t know what to do.” The line was rehearsed but true. His therapist had helped him answer the questions he was likely to encounter as he returned to the outside world and his friends.

“I was mean to you the night before.” Lafayette’s voice came out even softer. “I was afraid—”

“No, Laf.” Hamilton touched his arm. “It was no one’s fault.”

Lafayette sucked in his bottom lip. “Do you still want to die?”

“I didn’t want to die before.” Hamilton squished a piece of taffy gently between his fingers. “But I didn’t know how else to end the pain. The hospital helped and I know how to cope better now. I don’t feel as desolate.” 

Lafayette gripped his shoulders. “I’m glad. You mean a lot to me, Alexander. I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you.”

“It’s okay. I know it’s been hard for everyone.” Hamilton met his brother’s dark eyes. “You’re important to me, too.” He turned back to the buckets of taffy. “Any good flavors we missed?”

They added a few more pieces and secured the bag. 

The Washington’s were at the front counter getting their favorite candies. 

“Pick something,” Washington said.

“Fudge.” Hamilton made a beeline to the end of the counter where he spotted blocks of fudge.

The owner let him sample a few pieces before he decided on butterscotch, and peanut butter-chocolate.

Lafayette chose turtle cheesecake bites.

Along with Washington’s chocolate covered peanut clusters and Mrs. Washington’s chewy salted caramels, and the taffy, they got chocolate covered pretzels, and a few truffles. 

The family ate lunch in another old house partially transformed into a business, this one to look like a 1950’s burger joint.

When they returned home after dropping off Lafayette, Washington declared, “Nap time.” He sank into his favorite chair and popped open the recliner.

“I won’t argue with that,” Hamilton said. He stretched out on the couch with a throw blanket. Potato jumped up and curled herself in the crook of his knees.

An hour later, Washington woke and found his wife in their room folding laundry. He sat on the bed and watched as he fought a yawn. “Will the boys be able to get through this?” he asked.

Mrs. Washington folded a pair of underwear before she answered. “Yes, but I worry they won’t be able to find that easy-going relationship they had. Laf didn’t call him ‘little lion’ today.”

“I noticed.” Washington rubbed his eyes. “I know it took them some time to become brothers; I hate the thought that it’s over for them already. Life isn’t going to get any easier and I always hoped that some of our foster children would remain close and continue to think of themselves as siblings.”

“I’m probably wrong, George.” Mrs. Washington pointed to the pile of socks that needed to be matched and folded. “Today was the first time they’ve seen each other. It was bound to be uncomfortable.”

Washington took the hint and tended to the clean socks. “I’m not good with things I can’t control.”

“I know, dear.” She watched him. “Those don’t match.”

Washington held up the two white socks. “What?”

She pointed out the slightly different ribbed tops of each sock. “Bree seems understanding of Alexander. She might be able to help Lafayette through this.” She finished folding underwear and helped her husband sort out the socks. “We should invite her over.”

“Of course, dear.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor dumb boy.

For the first week, Hamilton kept to a strict schedule much like he had at the hospital. During the day, Mrs. Washington made sure he kept busy and wasn’t overwhelmed. He helped her with her own daily chores—laundry, cooking, taking care of the dogs—and followed her around as if one of the old dogs. When she did her sewing, he did schoolwork. Normally, she’d spend some downtime online throughout the day but since they didn’t want Hamilton online too much yet, she played Solitaire the old-fashion way while her son did his craft projects or played cards with her. Doctor appointments and therapy kept them from remaining at home for too long. Washington drove Hamilton’s truck to work so his wife could use the Cadillac, the only vehicle she felt comfortable driving.

In the evening, Washington took over and helped Hamilton with school assignments, made sure he showered before bed and that he fell asleep without trouble.

Although, the first night he showered, he was in there so long Washington grew concerned and pounded on the door before he let himself in.

“What?” asked Hamilton as he poked his head around the shower curtain.

“You’ve been in here for a half hour,” Washington said.

“It’s been a long time since I had a long, hot shower.” He looked down at the rug.

Washington nodded, as he understood. “Not too much longer.”

It was a careful balance of letting Hamilton have privacy and knowing what he was up to. Both parents were mindful of triggers and sharp objects in the house. Years of foster parenting and countless classes on child development and psychology helped them keep things natural. Yet neither was prepared when Hamilton said during dinner, “I want to visit Aaron.”

It had been over six weeks since Hamilton had seen him and he was well aware that Burr had never attempted to see him in the hospital nor reached out to Washington to ask after him.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Washington asked. “I would advise you to wait a little longer.”

“Why?” Hamilton questioned. He reached across the table for a biscuit and glanced between his parents. “Nothing will change.”

“You’ll be stronger.” Washington passed him the butter. “Think about how much this will tax your emotions. Think about what Aaron might say.”

Hamilton buttered his biscuit before he spoke again. “Do you think he’ll say something insensitive?”

“I do.” Washington looked at his wife who nodded. “From what I’ve heard from John it doesn’t sound like he’s very emotionally stable. Even if he doesn’t mean to hurt you, he may say something stupid.”

“That sounds like normal Aaron.” Hamilton took a deep breath. “I need to see him, Dad.”

“Only if you allow me to remain in the room with you.”

Hamilton agreed.

 

Washington texted Burr to make sure he was willing to see Hamilton and then arrange a time. They headed to Burr’s apartment on Saturday.

Burr buzzed them in and opened the front door.

It was the first time Hamilton had even been to his apartment and decided it suited Burr very well: cold, bare, and enclosed.

Washington remained near the door as the two boys watched the floor.

“I see you still haven’t cut your hair,” Burr said.

Washington winced and watched his son tug at his left sleeve.

“I like it long,” Hamilton whispered. “How have you been?”

“Busy with work.” Burr crossed his arms. “I should be up for a promotion soon.” It was a lie. While he thought, his chances were good to move to Theodosia’s law firm, his job would remain the same.

“That’s good.” Hamilton continued to pull at his sleeve and stare at the floor. He glanced up blinking rapidly. “Do you hate me?”

Burr let his arms drop to his sides. “I don’t understand you anymore.” His brow knitted together. “I understood the depression even if I couldn’t handle it but why did you try to commit suicide? Trust me, I’ve wanted to die many times but I’ve never self-harmed.”

“Drinking is self-harm,” pointed out Hamilton.

Burr grumbled in annoyance. “This isn’t about me.” He crossed his arms again.

Hamilton looked to his dad.

Washington stepped closer and rested a hand on Hamilton’s shoulder. “Aaron, everyone’s depression manifests in different ways. Attempting suicide isn’t always about wanting to die but to end the current situation. You know what Alexander was going through with Mr. Stevens. Try to find some understanding.”

“I can’t,” Burr said. He walked the few steps to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. “It would be like evaluating my own fucked up life and the fact that I should have killed myself a long time ago.” He stared at the glass of water but didn’t drink. “Sadie died of a drug overdose. I don’t think she intended to kill herself but she was miserable enough to want not to feel like for a while. That shit runs in my family, too.”

Hamilton stepped away from his dad’s security. “And I’m willing to understand you.” He leaned on the counter to look at Burr’s face and adjusted his sleeve. “Can you find the same willingness for me?”

Burr dumped out the untouched glass of water. “No, Alexander. I’m better off with you not in my life. I’m sorry.” He ignored Hamilton and met Washington’s disappointed gaze. “Can you both leave?”

Washington steered a silent Hamilton out. “Please, consider talking to someone, Aaron.” He shut the apartment door.

It was walking away from Burr at the Goodwill store all over again. Washington let go of Hamilton’s arm as he wrestled with competing thoughts. The last time Burr left, he came back. How likely was that to happen again? If they went home right now, would they ever see Burr again? Would that be better or worse?

Washington watched his son’s downturned face. He wasn’t crying but that was an easier emotion to read. His face was tired, defeated. “What do you want me to do, Alexander?”

Hamilton looked up. “Walk away.”

They headed outside to the car.

 

“Fuck!” Burr smacked his hand against the kitchen counter. He grabbed the glass and threw it. Glass shattered across the floor. He understood Hamilton’s desire to kill himself now. Understood everything. The glass on the floor was tempting, irresistible. Unlike Hamilton, no one would find him before he bled out. No one cared about him. No one made plans with him. He was better off dead. He’d wanted to be dead his whole life. He was too much of a coward to do it, though, always had been.

He walked away from the glass and picked up his phone. He meant to call Theodosia but accidentally dialed Angelica instead.

“Hey, Aaron.”

Burr glanced at the phone in confusion. Maybe it was fate, he decided. “Hey, can you come pick me up? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course.” Angelica didn’t bother to question why. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Stay on the line, okay?”

Burr did as asked, although they remained quiet except for Angelica to give him a continued ETA and for him to acknowledge he heard. He packed a bag and waited for her outside. He hung up when he got in the car.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Angelica asked. She left the car in park and watched his ashen face.

“Alexander came over.” Burr leaned against the car door. “It didn’t go well and I told him to leave, like, forever.”

“Oh, Aaron.” Angelica reached for his cold hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry, hon. We’ll get this sorted out, I promise.”

She drove them to her apartment that she shared with a roommate, an acquaintance from college. The roommate was at work, giving them some privacy.

Angelica directed Burr to sit on the couch in the small front room and grabbed a carton of ice cream and two spoons from the kitchen.

While they binged on ice cream, Burr told her what had been said and how he knew he was wrong but didn’t know how to make anything right. “I do think it might be better to walk away from Alex.” He shoved a large spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and let it chill his gums. “But it feels so empty without him. I know I wouldn’t just be losing Alex, but Thomas, James, and Washington, as well. Probably John, too.

Angelica licked her spoon. “So this is a sucky question, but if you think you’d lose all your friends if you cut ties with Alex, are they really your friends to begin with?”

Burr scratched at his neck. “I don’t know.” He ate another spoonful of ice cream. “Maybe they were all just college buddies.”

“That doesn’t mean they weren’t real friends,” countered Angelica. “You guys were through a lot together. It means something.”

“But I always fucked it up.” Burr stuck his spoon in the ice cream and stared at it. “I always take things in the wrong direction. When James almost died, I was fucking John. And I still wanted to be with Alex at that point. How non-functioning am I? How retar—”

“Don’t use that word,” Angelica interrupted. “Aaron, yes, you are messed up. But you can fix your life. You’re not hopeless. What you need are a little empathy and some self-love.”

“Two of my favorite thing,” Burr said sarcastically as he retrieved his spoon. “I fucking lied to Alex about never self-harming or intending to commit suicide. I was going to kill myself the night I told you about Sadie. I was going to numb the pain with alcohol and shoot myself. Why did I lie to Alex? I’m already as low as humanly possible; it wasn’t as if I could make myself look better. I don’t understand the choices I make.”

“Poor dumb boy.” Angelica patted his hand. “Try not to be so hard on yourself. That’s your first step, okay? What do you like about yourself? You are not allowed to say nothing.”

Burr licked at a spoonful of ice cream as he thought. “I don’t hate my looks too much.”

“Okay, but rephrase that more positively.”

“I don’t hate my appearance?” Burr suggested.

Angelica glared at him. “Try again.”

“I like my appearance?”

“Bingo!” Angelica patted his cheek. “What else?”

“Um, I like my job, does that count?” He looked up at Angelica.

“Yes.” She smiled. “Keep going.”

“I’m friends with you. Um, I’m pretty smart, at least academically.” He pursed his lips. “Is that negative?”

“No, except that you’re really smart.” Angelica grinned at him. “Come up with one more thing about yourself.”

Burr chewed on his lip. “I dunno.”

“I will tickle you,” Angelica threatened.

“Um…” He stared off to the right. “I rescue stuffed animals.”

Angelica giggled. “I like that one. I’m still going to tickle you, though.”

“No.” Burr scooted further down the couch while a grin stretched across his face.

“Well, shoot,” said Angelica. “No means no. I have to respect that.”

Burr stuck out his bottom lip. “Yes.”

She tickled him at once until both fell off the couch and were breathless with laughter.

“Thank you,” Burr panted as he lay on the floor. “You’re always there to pick me up and I couldn’t do it without you.” He met her lively brown eyes. “Even though I make bad choices, you see something good inside me and I’m going to see that, too.”

“Good.” Angelica tapped his nose. “Otherwise I would have to tickle you again.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bug-eyed creature.

“I’m going to say something stupid,” fretted Madison as Jefferson drove them to Mount Vernon for Sunday dinner. “What if I say something stupid?”

“Like what you’re saying now?” Jefferson said. He pulled into the driveway. “Stop worrying. Just talk about unicorns and shit.” He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand. “It’s Alexander and he loves you.”

They got out of the truck and headed up the porch steps.

Mrs. Washington let them in and cooed over Madison and admired the pastel pink hair clips he streaked his hair with.

Hamilton came out of the kitchen and a smile spread across his face. “Jemmy!”

The uncertainty vanished from Madison’s face as they embraced. “It’s so good to see you! You look amazing, Alex.”

Hamilton held Madison back by the shoulders. “Not as good as you, little duck.” He pulled up the hood on Madison’s unicorn hoodie and admired the horn. “You find the cutest shit to wear.”

“It’s because I’m tiny.” Madison grinned. “I have lots of cute, sparkly things to choose from.”

“I’m glad you’re tiny.” Hamilton hugged him again.

Jefferson cleared his throat. “Any love for me?”

Hamilton looked up. “No, because I’m stealing your boyfriend,” he teased but let go of Madison. “I suppose, though.”

They embraced and Hamilton let his cheek rest against Jefferson’s chest. “Thanks for being there for me,” he murmured.

“Of course, bud.” Jefferson tucked Hamilton’s hair back behind his ear. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah.” Hamilton stepped back. “Starving, though.”

“Same!” Madison said. He grabbed their hands and pulled them toward the kitchen.

Washington came out of the family room where he’d been resting and lying to his wife that no, he was not having chest pains, he just wanted to lie down. “There’s my boys.” He gave them each a hug and sat down. “Let’s eat.”

There was plenty to discuss through dinner as Jefferson talked about work and school. Hamilton interrupted a few times to ask about law school. Madison butted in with his own work stories, although they all sounded more like him goofing or than doing any actual work.

After dinner, Washington slipped away to the bathroom to take an antacid and pray the burning in his chest was only heartburn. But he couldn’t ignore that the pain had been there before he ate, although it was by far worse now. However, if he said anything, Hamilton would panic. It was probably nothing.

When he returned, Hamilton and Madison were pouring over the mythical creature book while Jefferson helped Mrs. Washington with the dishes and asked her advice on getting stains out of various things.

Washington opened his mouth to add his own advice (hide the stain with a pillow) when the pain intensified enough to knock him to the floor.

“Dad!” Hamilton bumped his chair over as he jumped up.

Mrs. Washington hurried over. “George? What hurts?” She and Jefferson helped him sit more comfortably.

“Fine,” Washington grunted. “Slipped.”

Hamilton crowded in. “Is it your heart? We need to go to the hospital.”

Washington sucked in a painful breath. “I’m fine. Just a little heartburn, I promise.”

Mrs. Washington and Jefferson exchanged a tight look.

“Nope.” Hamilton tugged at his dad’s hand. “Hospital. Thomas, help me.”

Washington held them off. “No. Let me get up, I’m fine.” He managed to get to his feet and ignored the crippling pain in his body. “See?” He pressed his lips tight.

“George, you’re in pain,” Mrs. Washington insisted. “We’re going to the hospital. Thomas, can you drive?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jefferson headed for the side door and spotted his boyfriend teary-eyed and frozen at the kitchen table. “Be brave, Jemmy,” he whispered.

Madison nodded and wiped his eyes.

Everyone fit in the Cadillac and soon arrived at the hospital.

Washington was whisked away at once to have his blood drawn to test protein levels to see if he was having a heart attack.

Jefferson stayed with Hamilton and Madison and watched their distress levels. “Anything I can do, Alexander?”

Hamilton held out his hand. “Hold this.”

Jefferson held on tight.

Mrs. Washington returned to them within a half hour. “Not a heart attack,” she said. “Kidney stones.” She hugged Hamilton to her. “He’ll be fine.”

Hamilton let out a deep sigh. “Dad needs to stop falling apart.”

“I know, love.” She turned to Jefferson. “Will you take Alexander and Jemmy home? George’s doctor wants to knock the kidney stones out with a laser tonight.”

“Sure,” Jefferson said.

“I can stay,” Hamilton insisted.

“No.” Mrs. Washington kissed his cheek. “Stay with Thomas.”

“Mom—”

“Hey,” Jefferson interrupted, “we can have a slumber party. Jem, can I entice you to stay, too?”

Madison shook his head.

“You’ll be missing out,” Jefferson wheedled as he steered him and Hamilton out. He caught Mrs. Washington’s worried look as he glanced back and knew at once she was lying.

 

Mrs. Washington held her husband’s hand before he was wheeled into surgery to put in another stent to keep his arteries open. However, if the damage was worse than expected, the procedure would become open heart surgery.

“What did you tell the boys?” Washington asked. He stroked the palm of his wife’s hand.

“Kidney stones.” Her eyes shimmered but she managed to hold back the tears. “Thomas is going to stay with Alexander.”

“Good.” Washington squeezed her hand. “Call Jim to stay here with you. Also—” He met his wife’s tearful eyes “—I updated my will. You and all the boys will be taken care of.”

“George…” Mrs. Washington pressed her husband’s hand against her cheek as the tears spilled free. “I love you.”

“I know, dear. I love you, too.”

***

Jefferson dropped Madison off at Montpelier and returned the Cadillac to its garage.

The dogs barked and jumped around as the side door opened. Hamilton scooped up Potato before she could lunge at Jefferson’s ankles.

“Let the dogs out and we’ll go to bed,” Jefferson said since he knew Hamilton would need directions to keep from becoming stressed. “Washington will likely be home when you get up in the morning.”

Hamilton nodded and did as asked.

Once the dogs were back inside, they raced upstairs to bed. Hamilton followed them into the master bedroom.

“Aren’t we sleeping in your room?” Jefferson questioned as Hamilton undressed.

Hamilton shook his head. He got under the covers and buried his face in Washington’s pillow.

Jefferson changed into the pajamas he’d grabbed from Montpelier and carefully got in bed without disturbing Potato. “Wake me if you need anything, okay, Alexander?” He stroked Hamilton’s back and listened to his muffled sobs. “Want me to hold you?”

More sobbing.

“Did you take your medicine? I need an actual answer, Alex.”

“Yes,” Hamilton whispered.

“Good boy.” Jefferson resumed rubbing his back. “Don’t let Potato bite me, okay?” He scooted over and slipped an arm around his friend’s shaking frame. “Your dad is going to be fine. I promise.” He had to believe the words himself, otherwise, what would any of them do?

 

Jefferson awoke to a growl and almost threw the bug-eyed creature perched on his chest across the room. “Alexander, get it off.” He didn’t dare move and risk losing his face.

“What?” Hamilton rolled over and opened his crusted eyes. “Potato.” He grabbed the Chihuahua and cuddled her. Then remembering last night’s disaster, he sat up. “Is Dad home?”

Jefferson checked his phone and found a text update from a half hour ago. “Your mom says Dad is fine and they’ll be home by eleven this morning.”

“Praise Jesus.” Hamilton got out of bed and set Potato on the floor. “I’m going to eat cereal and watch cartoons. Do you have to leave for school, Thomas?”

“Nah.” Jefferson tugged his fingers through his tangled curls. “Cereal and cartoons sound better.” He followed Hamilton downstairs and helped him feed the dogs. They fed themselves and vegged out on the couch until Mr. Madison brought the Washington’s home a little before eleven.

Mr. Madison had to chuckle when he saw Jefferson still in his pajamas watching cartoons. “Good thing I knew where you were seeing as you didn’t show up to work or call in sick.”

“Whoops.” Jefferson stopped a yawn. He helped get Washington settled upstairs where Hamilton curled up next to him on the bed.

“Better?” Hamilton asked his dad as he stared up at him in adoration.

“Better,” Washington agreed and closed his eyes.

Downstairs, and safe from Hamilton hearing, Mrs. Washington told Jefferson, “He’s one heart attack away from needing open heart surgery. Or…”

“Don’t say it,” Jefferson said. “We’ll all be vigilant and keep Washington healthy and stress-free. You’re not alone.”

Mrs. Washington managed a tired smile for him and the fast-balding Mr. Madison. “I know.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unicorns
> 
> Comments are so appreciated!

Mrs. Washington returned upstairs after Jefferson and Mr. Madison left. Within a few minutes of laying down, she fell asleep.

The only one awake, an acute sense of aloneness struck Hamilton as he lay between his parents. The longer he remained, the more aware he became of each breath he took or each rustle of his parents, of each passing minute. What would happen if either of his parents died? By no means was he ready to be on his own. His mental health was in shambles, he had no future prospect of employment, he knew very little of adult responsibilities like budging, cooking, grocery shopping, and paying bills.

He had a strong surety that Washington would provide for him in his will. He wouldn’t be destitute but that still didn’t mean Hamilton could cope. He wouldn’t be able to be strong for Mrs. Washington who would lose her partner of thirty-plus years.

Loss was the one thing Hamilton knew about yet it remained a foreign concept on how to survive it and live again.

Desperate to push the thoughts away, Hamilton scooted to the end of the bed and headed to his room. A change of scenery would clear his head. But the first thing he saw in his room was the bear Burr had given him several years ago before he left.

Left. Gone. Sick. Dead.

It didn’t matter how it happened, everyone he loved would disappear someday as his biological mom had, the man he thought was his biological dad, the man who _was_ his biological dad. Plus the cousin who committed suicide instead of being a proper guardian or the dozens of foster homes that kicked him out because he was “disobedient” and “troublesome.”

It was all pain.

Hamilton dug his fingernails into the scar on his wrist. He wanted to rip his fingernails down, tear his flesh out. Anything to stop the mental agony. The world was too big, too scary, too complicated.

 _Deep breaths,_ he commanded himself and managed to stop from injuring himself further. He opened his closest and pushed some random junk aside. He closed the door and tucked himself into the small space. The dark and confined area calmed him. He focused on breathing to quiet the onslaught of chaos in his mind. Little by little, the panic subsided and he dozed off.

 

The dogs woke Mrs. Washington an hour later to go outside. She didn’t think anything of Hamilton not still being on the bed and followed the pack downstairs. But when she didn’t see him in the kitchen or family room either, an ache grew in the back of her throat.

Potato refused to go outside with the other dogs and followed Mrs. Washington down the hall.

“Alexander?” she called as she poked her head in Washington’s office. She checked her sewing room, too.

“Alexander?” she said as she went upstairs to check in his bedroom.

Not seeing him, she checked the middle bedroom and Lafayette’s old room. “Alexander?” Her voice reached a hint of panic.

Potato barked from Hamilton’s room and Mrs. Washington returned and found the little dog pawing at the closet door.

Mrs. Washington opened it and breathed a sigh of relief. “Alexander.” She knelt down and touched his drawn up knees.

Hamilton jumped and grunted in surprise.

Potato yipped and managed to wiggle onto Hamilton’s lap.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Washington asked.

“Panic attack,” Hamilton murmured and hugged the little dog.

“Oh, hon, you should have woken me.” She squeezed his knees. “Are you feeling better now? Did you hurt yourself?”

Hamilton checked his wrist but the fingernail marks he’d made were already faded. “I’m okay.”

“Come out of the closest then, dear.” Mrs. Washington ruffled his hair. “We know you were never in there to begin with.”

Hamilton managed a grin.

Once upright, Mrs. Washington hugged him. “Everything is going to be all right. Why don’t you call John and see if he can spend the night?”

“Does that mean I can have my phone back?” asked Hamilton, face brightening.

“No.” Mrs. Washington tapped his nose. “I’m certain you can figure out how to text on your flip phone. When Dad is better, we’ll talk to your therapist about fewer restrictions for going online.” There were too many triggers on the internet and part of Hamilton’s recovery was to keep that to a minimum.

“Fine.” Although, if he was honest, not being glued to his phone made life less stressful. He texted Laurens from the flip phone and fought for each letter yet he still refused to use text speak. _Any chance you can spend the night?_

It didn’t take long for Laurens to reply. _Yeah! I can come over in about an hour._

_Awesome!_

While he waited for Laurens to arrive, Hamilton followed his mom around as she tended the dogs and made Washington a snack. They sat with him for a few minutes until the doorbell rang.

“John’s spending the night,” Hamilton explained. “That way Mom can take care of you.”

“I’m fine,” Washington grumbled.

“You’re crabby,” Mrs. Washington chided him but her face showed nothing but love.

Hamilton let Laurens inside and the two embraced.

“You look pale,” Laurens said and pinched Hamilton’s cheek. “Are you doing okay?”

“Not really,” Hamilton admitted. “Panic attack. I’m also pretty sure Dad had another heart attack and not kidney stones.”

Laurens hugged him again. “I’m sorry, babe.” He let go and stepped back. “I, uh, made something for you. Maybe it’ll help.” He reached in his pocket. “I know you’re, like, sensitive about your-your wrist.” He held out a wide, colorful woven bracelet.

Hamilton opened his mouth to thank him as he examined the bracelet but Laurens continued to ramble on.

“I know it’s not, like, perfect. I-I can make you a better one. Or if you hate it, I can buy you something else. My aunt helped me figure out how to attach it to elastic so it would fit snug. The size is probably wrong. I didn’t really know what I was doing. You prob—”

“Jack, I love it.” Hamilton kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” He pushed up his sleeve and slid on the homemade bracelet. It fit perfect and was wide enough to cover the red scar across his wrist. His shoulders relaxed as he examined the bracelet, his failure hidden. “I needed this. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Hammy.” Laurens’ face softened as he watched him. “What would you like to do?”

“Well, we could watch a movie,” Hamilton said, “but my options are rather small because everyone is overprotective. James has made himself the authority on what I’m allowed to watch and as you can imagine, it’s all Disney.”

“Oh, boy.”

“We could play a board game,” Hamilton suggested instead. “Scrabble?”

“So you can put an eight-letter word down after my very expert play of ‘cat’?”

“Yes.”

Laurens grinned. “Sounds good.”

While they played the game, Mrs. Washington came downstairs once to check on them and let them know they could make a pizza for dinner whenever they were hungry. “I’m going to make some soup for Dad and me and go to bed early.”

“Will you let me know before you go to bed?” Hamilton asked as he studied his letter choices.

“Of course, dear.” She headed out of the kitchen.

“Have to pee,” Laurens whispered to Hamilton and followed her.

“Thanks for coming over, John,” Mrs. Washington told him as he stopped her at the stairs. “It’ll help George rest to know someone is with Alexander tonight.”

“Happy to help.” He rubbed a hand along the banister.  

“Do you have concerns?” Mrs. Washington asked as he lingered.

“I need a hug.”

She chuckled and opened her arms to him and pulled him close. “We’ll all get through this, I promise. You’re always welcome to stay here, too, if you need some company.”

“Thank you.” While he didn’t exactly miss his family, Laurens still struggled with the loss and the knowledge he could never go home. With one crisis after another happening to his friend and mentor, he’d kept his feelings to himself. He had his aunt and he loved her but a mother’s hug was different.  

“Bladder issues?” Hamilton teased when Laurens finally returned.

“I needed a hug from your mom,” Laurens said and sat back down. “I get scared, too, but I’m here for you and I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Hamilton watched his friend with a soft expression. “I appreciate it.”

 

After pizza and a short movie, the boys headed upstairs to bed.

“Are you okay sharing a bed?” Hamilton asked as he stopped in the hallway. “We can sleep in the middle bedroom if you want.”

“Whatever you need, Hammy,” Laurens said. “I won’t get handsy with you, I promise.”

“We can share.” Hamilton headed into his room.

They got ready for bed and lay down next to each other.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Laurens asked. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. A glow from a nightlight in the hallway sent shadows of the trees outside dancing on the ceiling. “Hammy?”

In response, Hamilton gave a high, wheezing sniffle. Hot tears rolled out of the corners of his eyes.

Laurens scooted closer and tucked Hamilton again him. “Is this about Dad?” he asked.

“What happens if he dies?” Hamilton whispered. He sucked in a shaky breath and gripped Laurens’ shirt. “I don’t just mean soon but the eventuality. I don’t think I can function without him.”

“I understand,” Laurens said. He stroked Hamilton’s hair and kept him close. “Washington has done so much for you and I know you worry you’ll lose all that. I know you feel weak now but you are stronger than you were when I first met you. I don’t want to think about it either but you would still have Mom and Lafayette. I’m not leaving you nor would Thomas or James. We’ll all still be a family because of everything Washington gave us. You won’t be alone. But Washington is going to be okay for other thirty or more years.”

“I might be able to cope when I’m fifty,” said Hamilton, his voice muffled against Laurens’ chest. “Maybe.” He swallowed and the tears returned. “But what if it’s not thirty years? What if it’s two?”

“That could be the same for anyone, Hammy.” Laurens brushed Hamilton’s hair back. “You can’t dwell on stuff like that.”

Hamilton moved Laurens’ hand to rub his back. “I can’t help it. I can’t help but think of everything bad that could happen. I know it’s because of my anxiety and the therapy and meds help but I could lose so much. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I’m sorry you have to keep suffering.” Laurens squeezed him tight. “I wish I could take that away from you.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to keep talking about it? Or we can talk about something else.”

“Something else.” He closed his eyes.

Laurens rubbed Hamilton’s back. “Okay.” He thought and tried to come up with something that didn’t relate to the future or past. He couldn’t bring up any recent memes since Hamilton hadn’t been online in a while. Movie? But Hamilton hadn’t seen anything recent either. Hamilton liked to read and share his knowledge. “Learn anything new about medieval England?”

“No, but I know a shit ton about unicorns now,” Hamilton said. For the next half hour, he filled Laurens head with legends and creation stories about unicorns and all the sparkly details he had gotten from Madison.

“So they don’t actually poop rainbows?” Laurens asked.

“Nope.” Hamilton fought a yawn.

Laurens couldn’t and his mouth stretched wide. “That’s rather disappointing.”

“Right? But it has to be true because James would be all for rainbow poop if it was factual.” He let the yawn escape this time. “Thanks, Jack.”

“You’re welcome.” He patted Hamilton’s chest. “Get some sleep. Wake me if you have a nightmare or can’t sleep.” He didn’t have to worry, though. Explaining his fears and having a carefree conversation calmed Hamilton’s mind into a restful slumber.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemmy has to grow up :(

The elevator opened and Madison skipped down the hall to his dad’s office. He wore knee-high socks, black boots with his favorite sparkly pink laces, a khaki skirt and button down shirt. As he neared the office, he stopped the skipping and walked properly as he attempted to find a professional attitude. He opened the door and what little confidence he had drained away.

Six men stared at him as Mr. Madison stopped talking. 

“Good morning,” Mr. Madison said. To the men, he added, “This is my son, James. He’s helping out at the firm.” 

Two of the men shook their heads; a few pursed their lips and tried to look unconcerned. Only one said hello to Madison. 

“We’re almost done with the meeting,” Mr. Madison told his son frozen by the door. “See if Thomas needs any help until then.”

Madison left without a word and ran back down the hall. He threw open the door to Jefferson’s office and clambered onto his boyfriend’s lap upsetting a cup of coffee on the desk. He wheezed from running and tears ran down his cheeks.

“Where do I begin?” Jefferson muttered as he picked up his spilled drink. “What’s wrong, Jemmy?”

“Dad was in a meeting,” Madison hiccupped. 

“Oh.” Jefferson situated Madison on his lap and fixed his skirt and hair. “Explain how that was so traumatic.”

“People.” Madison pressed his face into Jefferson’s chest. “No one can accept me.”

Jefferson pried Madison away. “Did they say something?” He smoothed back his boyfriend’s hair again.

“Not to me.” Madison rubbed his eyes. “I’m sure they’re giving Dad an earful. They probably won’t respect him anymore because I’m so messed up. We’re going to be poor because of me.”

Jefferson gritted his teeth. “You’re jumping to a million conclusions that are all baseless. Calm down.” He handed his boyfriend a tissue. “The men he’s meeting with right now are of little concern to your dad’s paycheck. I doubt they’ll say anything to your dad or think less of him because he has a genderqueer son. If they have any decency, they’ll think higher of him for supporting who his children are.”

“I’m weird, T,” Madison wailed.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “That’s of zero consequence to the people who matter to you. Calm down before you have an asthma attack. I need you to get some paper towels from the break room to clean up the coffee.”

“No.”

Jefferson stood and deposited Madison on the floor. “Run along.”

“Thomas!” Madison stomped his foot. “You’re being mean.”

Jefferson returned to his seat. “Do you want to grow up or not?”

Madison stormed out.

He returned with a roll of paper towels and trudged through the small office. Jefferson got out of the way of the angry cleanup. Finished, Madison grabbed the empty coffee cup and stomped off to refill it.

“You’ll make an excellent wife,” Jefferson called after him. 

Madison backtracked to shoot him the finger before disappearing from sight again.

A stickiness remained on the desk and Jefferson dug out some sanitizing wipes and finished cleaning. 

Coffee cup in hand, Madison returned and sat in the chair across from Jefferson, hands in his lap, toes brushing the floor, back rigid. 

“Good job.” Jefferson handed him a candy bar. 

“I hate you right now.” Madison took the candy and unwrapped it.

“I know.” He leaned back and watched his boyfriend. “You understand you were being dramatic, right? What are you going to do if someone says something mean to you?”

“Die.” Madison bit into the candy bar. “I’ve dealt with bullying, T.”

“I’m well aware.” Jefferson leaned forward. “But no one is bullying you here. No one said anything to you. You just perceived their displeasure and decided to throw a tantrum instead of shrugging it off. I don’t like being the one to tell you this but you need to control yourself.”

“I’m going to quit.”

Jefferson sighed. “Perhaps you need a different job.”

Madison choked down a bite. “No job.”

“Your dad is going to move me to his partner’s law firm for the summer. I won’t be working under him so I can get some real experience. Perhaps that’s what you need, too.”

“No.” Madison wrapped up the last half of the candy bar. “I can’t, Thomas. I can’t work with strangers.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “I just want to stay home.”

“I know you’re introverted, Jem,” Jefferson soothed, “but you made it through school. You can work a few hours a week.”

“No. It’s too much pressure.” Tears spilled down his cheeks. “No one will take me seriously.”

Jefferson looked up at the security camera in defeat. “That’s what I’ve been trying to help you with.”

“But that doesn’t matter.” Madison wiped his eyes. “Everyone will take one look at me and think I’m sixteen. I’ll always be the baby of the job no matter how old I am or if I have any seniority. This is what I’m stuck with, Thomas. You’ll never understand that because you’ve always looked older.”

“I’m sorry,” Jefferson said and his eyes softened. “I didn’t understand.”

“No one does.” Madison wiped his nose. “If I was outgoing and commanding it probably wouldn’t matter but I can’t stand up for myself. I’m never going to get the same respect of someone else my age or position in any career. I might as well embrace being the team pet.”

“That sounds rather demeaning.” Jefferson sucked in his lips.

Madison shrugged. “It’s the reality I’m going to face, T. That’s what I am to you guys. I can be cute and quirky. I can’t be professional and respected.”

“You can and should still be respected,” Jefferson insisted. “Don’t put yourself down or everyone else will too.” He watched his boyfriend. “It’s hard to fight what you’re used to. I would never tell you to become bold and commanding. You be you no matter where you are but control your emotions. When we’re home, you can vent and cry all you need but at work, you can hold it together.”

Madison nodded. 

“I’m okay with baby steps,” Jefferson continued, “but I need to see that you’re trying.” He got up and moved around his desk to kneel in front of Madison. “You want to get married, right? We’ll need to live together then. You need to be able to take care of yourself.”

Madison nodded again. 

“No more tears.” Jefferson brushed a finger against his cheek. “Can you stay or do you need to go home?”

“I can stay,” Madison whispered.

“That’s very adult of you.” Jefferson stood and kissed his head. He got Madison set up with a stack of papers to organize and file. He watched his boyfriend and hated having to impose adulthood on his free spirit but since there was no other desk and Madison had to sprawl out on the floor, he realized Madison would always find a way to be himself and grow up in his own way. Adulthood sucked and Jefferson knew he would do whatever he could to make sure it didn’t for Madison, even if doing so frustrated himself.

Madison hummed as he worked, papers spread out before him on the floor as he put them in alphabetical order.

“Good or bad hum?” Jefferson asked aware that usually humming meant Madison had reached his stimuli tolerance.

Madison looked up. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was being noisy.”

“No, babe, it’s fine,” Jefferson mollified. “I wasn’t sure if it was a stress sound.”

“No, trying to keep from getting bored.” Madison grinned. “You know how dull filing it, right?”

“Why do you think I make you do it?” Jefferson teased.

The door opened before Madison had a chance to retort. Mr. Madison stepped in and closed the door behind him.

“What’d we do?” Jefferson asked while Madison’s shoulders slumped.

“Neither of you is in trouble,” Mr. Madison said. “But I realize this isn’t working out for Jemmy and maybe—”

“I’ve already talked to him,” Jefferson interrupted. “He’s not real will—”

Madison broke in this time, “I can talk, Thomas.”

“Sorry,” Jefferson said and crossed his fingers under his desk that his boyfriend would voice his ideas.

Standing, Madison faced his dad. “I want to try working at the other law firm this summer when Thomas does. I can file papers and do the boring stuff as long as I don’t have to talk to people.”

“I’m sure I can arrange that,” Mr. Madison said. “You still won’t be on the payroll but if you do a good job, I’ll see about creating a position for you. However—” He looked between the boys “—at my partner’s firm, Thomas isn’t known and I think he could work better if his relationship with the boss’ son isn’t broadcast.”

“Sir,” Jefferson spoke at once, “Jemmy is going to need my help, I’ll—”

Mr. Madison held up a hand to silence him. “Jemmy needs to do this on his own as well. You both will only be there for a few months. I’m sure you can manage.”

Madison chewed on his lip. “I’d rather just stay here then,” he murmured.

“You need to step out of your comfort zone,” Mr. Madison persisted. “Mom and I have been lenient with you your whole life. You need to grow up.”

Tears spilled down Madison’s cheeks at once.

“I already had that conversation with him,” Jefferson mumbled. “Now he feels attacked.”

Mr. Madison sighed. “James, we’re doing this because we love you.”

“Leave me alone.” Madison ran out of the room.

Jefferson pursed his lips and met Mr. Madison defeated look. “Now what?”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Madison admitted. “I know Eleanor and I coddled him more than the other kids but Frank and Ambrose have no problem accepting responsibility. I’m at a loss as to why he’s so…”

“Obstinate?” offered Jefferson.

“And dramatic.” Mr. Madison rubbed his forehead. “Not to stereotype but I had wondered if it was because he is gay although, you’re not like that.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get any of the good gay genes,” Jefferson said with a smirk. “I don’t have an answer for you. He’s Jemmy.”

“Indeed.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Cutting

Washington and Hamilton returned to school the following week. For both, it was more overwhelming than either expected.

Students and faculty came up to Washington constantly to ask how he was and subtly ask for help, guidance or remark casually on something he or she needed done yesterday. The pile of paperwork that he’d almost finished before his first absence had tripled. Retirement started to sound like a very good idea as interruptions came every few minutes.

Then there was trying to get his classes back on track. The substitutes had kept to his lesson plans yet left most of the students confused. He spent the majority of class time that week answering questions and agreeing to extensions and rewrites on papers. 

By afternoon each day, he was exhausted with a bad headache. Work went home with him where he could at least get some done with fewer disruptions. 

Hamilton fought the same exhaustion each day as he struggled to be around hundreds of people and constant noise again. 

Whispers followed him through most classes where he was well known as the one to always answer every question and only grew when he remained quiet throughout the lessons. Since he hadn’t been himself during the fall semester either, he heard a lot of gossip that he had cancer. He didn’t discourage it.

Laurens and Bree kept by his side as often as they could and he never had to eat lunch alone.

“I don’t think I can tell anyone,” Hamilton told Laurens halfway through the week after enduring insensitive questioning by nosy classmates. It was the first time many had even spoken to him as he had always kept his social circle small and tight.

“That’s perfectly fine,” Laurens said. He watched Hamilton pick at his casserole.

“But I feel like I’m supposed to be, like, a role model for making it through and getting help.” He set down his fork. “Shouldn’t I share my story?”

Laurens touched Hamilton’s arm. “Only if you want to. It’s your life. It’s okay if you need it to be private, especially since it’s fresh. You don’t owe anyone any kind of explanation. If someone isn’t letting you be, tell me. I’ll shut them up.”

“Thanks, John.” Hamilton picked at his food again. “What is this stuff?”

“Garbage.” Laurens stood. “Come on, you still have an hour before class. Let’s go find something edible.”

They headed off campus for real food.

***

Dragging his feet, Hamilton was glad to see Laurens waiting outside his classroom the next day. He rubbed his eyes and leaned against him.

Laurens massaged the back of Hamilton’s neck. “Bad day?”

“I’m so tired.”

“You have a long lunch break now, right? Want to take a nap?”

Hamilton yawned. “Yes.”

Laurens started to lead him out of the law building when Hamilton put on the brakes. “Where’re we going?”

“I thought you could rest in my dorm?” Laurens’ brow knitted.

Hamilton shook his head. “I can’t be in a dorm.”

“Okay, we’ll go to Washington’s office.” He wrapped an arm more securely around his friend as fatigue settled deeper in Hamilton’s bones and he slumped down further.

Washington’s office was empty and Hamilton sank down on the fainting couch. The same couch had been in Washington’s office when he’d taught high school. Madison had used it frequently then.

Laurens unfolded the throw blanket draped over the back and lay it over Hamilton. “Dad should be back soon but I’ll stay until he is.” He sat on the floor and listened to Hamilton’s breathing, waiting for that hitch to signal tears, but it deepened into sleep within a few minutes.

Washington returned to his office with little surprise to find some of his boys inside.

Laurens stood and said softly, “He’s asleep.”

“Thanks for staying with him,” Washington replied. “Go get some lunch, John.” He pulled out his wallet and handed over some cash. “Get Alexander a sandwich and juice, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get yourself something edible, too.”

“Thank you.”

Washington sat at his desk as the door closed. He watched his sleeping son and wished more than anything to take away his pain, to give him confidence and courage. If he hadn’t entered Hamilton’s life would all this had happened? Hamilton wouldn’t have had the money to visit NYC and run into the Stevens. Without that chance coincidence, Hamilton would never have been shot. All the harassment, the fears, the stress wouldn’t have stolen that arrogant, invincible attitude his boy had had a few years ago.

He knew, though, without him, Hamilton would have ended up on the homeless the day he turned eighteen. He would never have finished high school, would likely have no job, no home. But he’d probably have his sanity, not crippling anxiety and depression. 

But he knew that wasn’t true. The anxiety had always been there buried beneath a shell of self-preservation that would have broken on the streets eventually and Hamilton’s attempted suicide would have resulted in death.

Yet that gnawing doubt remained that he could have done more.

Washington woke Hamilton an hour later and coaxed him to eat the lunch Laurens dropped off before he went to class.

“Do you need to go home?” Washington asked as he brushed back Hamilton’s hair.

“No.” Hamilton sipped his juice. “I just needed some sleep.”

Washington watched the downcast eyes. “Anything you need to talk about?”

Hamilton shook his head. “It’s just a bad day. Tomorrow will be better.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Alexander.” He kissed his son’s head and rubbed his shoulders. “What would you like for dinner tonight? I can pick something up.”

“Chinese?” Hamilton suggested.

“Sounds good.”

 

The door had only closed behind Hamilton for a few minutes before it opened again.

“Sorry to bother you, sir.” Jefferson stepped in Washington’s office. “Did you get my email?”

“You’re never a bother, son,” Washington said and set aside a stack of paperwork. “I did.”

Jefferson took a seat. “I know you’re busy but could you look at the paper I attached? I marked the places I’m concerned about so you don’t have to read the whole thing. It’s due Monday. I know you’re busy,” he repeated.

“It’s not a problem, Thomas.” Washington watched him. “How are things going?”

“Oh, you know, work school, Jemmy isn’t a capable adult, the usual.”

Washington chuckled. “Indeed.”

“How’s Alexander?” His dark eyes softened with concern.

The humor left Washington’s face and his lips pinched together. “Tired. John’s been a big help keeping him company.”

“Is he going to be able to graduate on time?” Jefferson asked.

“Yes. Most of his professors were understanding and gave him the extensions he needed.”

“Doesn’t hurt that you teach most of his classes,” Jefferson teased and got some of the gloom to leave Washington’s face.

“Indeed.”

“I’ll let you get back to work.” Jefferson stood. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my boy. I’ll get it back to you tonight.”

In the hallway, Jefferson passed a small girl who looked oddly familiar. “Bree?”

She stopped. “Hey, Thomas.”

“How’s my sister?” he asked since he remembered she and Marty J were roommates.

“She’s great,” Bree said. “How’s James?”

Jefferson grimaced. “Oh, you know his usual self.”

A smile crept up Bree’s lips.

Jefferson tugged at his shirt. “I know he’d love to see you.”

“Same.”

He pulled out his phone. “Let me give you his number.”

“You don’t have it memorized?” teased Bree as he took out her own phone.

“I barely remember my own number half the time,” he admitted.

Bree added Madison to her contact list. “Thanks. I’ll text him.”

“Cool.” Jefferson pocketed his phone and shoved his hands in his pockets, too. “Um, good to see you again.”

“Yeah.” Bree smiled. “I’m sorry I used to tease you.”

“No, you’re not.” Jefferson rolled his eyes. “I’ve gotten over it.”

“Did you ever heed my advice and take your shirt off during a debate?” she asked with a smirk.

“Oh, God, you’re still horrible.” Jefferson hunched his shoulders. “No, ma’am. That’s Alexander’s forte.”

“You should do that when you’re in court.” She rose up on her toes, still a foot shorter than him.

“Ugh, see you later, Bree.” He turned away shaking his head. 

“See you, Thomas!”

***

Despite Hamilton’s hope that the next day would be better, he woke with a headache and a strong desire to stay home. But he was barely keeping up with schoolwork. He needed to attend class.

As he sat through the lecture, he picked at the back of his hand and dug in his fingernails. An emptiness settled in his chest and the urge to cut strengthened with each minute. He ran his hand along his desk in hopes of a sharp edge but found none.

His therapist had gone over different alternatives for when he felt the urge to self-harm and he kept the list on his newly-returned phone. The ones most helpful to him were at the top but he didn’t have a rubber band or an ice cube. He didn’t feel like getting out a notebook and crayon to scribble. He couldn’t take a hot shower right then.

He squeezed the stuffed narwhal keychain Madison had given him and he kept clipped to his backpack but it wasn’t enough.

 _GO TO DAD_ was in caps at the top and bottom of his list but he didn’t feel like explaining the urge to him. The pain and release were what he needed. None of those substitutes held the same satisfaction.

Class over, Hamilton hurried to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall. He hung his backpack on the hook and opened the innermost pocket and pulled out a razorblade overlooked from its hiding place when his parents confiscated all sharp objects.

He rolled up his jeans and rested his boot on the edge of the toilet seat. Razorblade pinched between his fingers, he cut deep across his flesh. A sigh escaped at the white-hot flash of pain that made his leg spasm.

Well, he was a failure now. Why stop?

Hamilton slashed into his leg again and again in frenzied cuts. He couldn’t stop as blood soaked into his sock and tears blurred his vision.

At last, the razorblade slick with blood slipped from his fingers and fell into the toilet. A sob escaped and Hamilton sank to the floor. Blood trickled down his leg as his body shook. He was a failure.

He needed that razorblade back.

But his phone rang before he could stick his blood-coated fingers into the water.

Dad.

With a shaky breath, Hamilton tapped the green button. “I messed up,” he whispered.

“Where are you?” Washington asked.

Hamilton told him which bathroom and stayed on the phone until he heard his dad’s voice in the bathroom. He opened the stall door and let Washington see his bloody, sliced leg. “I couldn’t stop.” He trembled.

The cuts weren’t deep and only one hadn’t fully clotted.

Washington drew his son close. “We’ll get through this.” He kissed Hamilton’s head and let go. He locked the bathroom door and had Hamilton sit on the counter to clean his leg.

Hamilton winced, leg twitching at the tingling pain.

“What did you use?” Washington asked. He held a paper towel against the cut that still bled.

“Razorblade.” Hamilton explained about the one he’d hidden in his backpack. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Washington touched his cheek. “I’m not mad. We move on and try again; that’s all we can do.”

“I’m sorry,” Hamilton repeated anyway.

“I know.” Washington got some band-aids from Hamilton’s backpack and stuck them on the deeper of the multitude of cuts and scratches. It was the first time he’d seen all the pink scars crisscrossing Hamilton’s leg from the months of cutting. The regret that he hadn’t known burned in his chest. He tugged down Hamilton’s pant leg. “Come to me next time, please. You don’t have to tell me why but you need not to be alone when you feel this way. I don’t want to lose you, Alexander.”

Hamilton nodded and said a third time, “I’m sorry.”

“So am I, my dear boy.”


	25. Chapter 25

Madison and Bree finally found a Saturday to get together and Marty J dropped her off on her way to Monticello.

They hung out in Madison’s room and chatted about school, work, Hamilton, and Jefferson.

“Marty J has lots of good stories about your boyfriend,” Bree said as her eyes crinkled. “He’s quite the dork.”

“Yeah, he is,” agreed Madison. “He’s more laid-back now but when we were younger and our parents made us hang out he only wanted to talk about history and a bunch of really boring books. I had to work my magic on him for a long time.”

“No kidding.” She sat up straighter and said in a serious tone, “You’ve done very well with him, Mr. James.”

Equally serious, Madison said, “I did the best I could with such a hopeless specimen, Miss Bree.”

When they ran out of ways to make fun of Jefferson, Madison got out his nail polish case and showed Bree how to make cats and rainbows.

“I need to ask you something,” Bree said as Madison carefully created a cat. “I would ask Mr. Washington or Alex but they have enough on their plate.”

“What is it?” Madison stopped to look at her.

“When I was in foster care, there was this other girl in care, too, who met with her mom at the same time I met with my dad at family services. Both our parents were always late so we’d talk. Well, um, she texted me yesterday that she needs help. She’s back at home but her mom is threatening to kick her out because she’s pregnant.”

Madison grimaced. “Shit.”

“Right?” Bree stared at the half-painted cat on her index nail. “Like, I’d go to the Washington’s but they’re so stressed as it is. They don’t need to deal with a pregnant teen and her angry mother.”

“Yeah, but, they like to help,” Madison reasoned. “Is the girl in danger?”

Bree shrugged. “Not like going to be murdered but she’ll probably end up on the streets.”

Madison fiddled with the brush in his hand. “How old is she?”

“Seventeen.” She sucked in her lips. “But she still has another year of high school to go.”

He nodded. “You have to tell Washington.”

“I couldn’t, not with everything…” She trailed off.

“Yeah, but you obviously want to help her or you wouldn’t be asking me.” Madison took the hand that he hadn’t painted yet. “Washington will know what to do and if he even can do anything.”

Bree nodded. “I’ll tell him.”

Madison returned to creating the cat. “What’s her name?”

“Dolley.”

***

“Bree’s here!” Hamilton shouted before he opened the front door. He let her in and crushed her in a hug.

“It’s good to see you, too, Alex,” Bree said with a giggle.

The Washington’s came out of the kitchen and hugged their former foster daughter. The dogs barked and jumped around.

“It’s good to have you over, dear,” Mrs. Washington said. “Come in the kitchen; dinner is almost ready.”

Through dinner, Bree caught them up on school and how she was doing. She hesitated to bring up Dolley, though, and couldn’t decide when would be the right time.

After dinner, Hamilton wanted to play Scrabble and she couldn’t deny him that. Marty J would pick her up at nine and she feared her chance ticking away.

With not much time left to spare, she found a moment when Hamilton left to use the bathroom.

“I need advice,” she told the Washington’s as they sat watching TV in the family room. Even though she had only stayed with the family for a short time, she missed their quiet evening routine with the family all in the same room.

“What is it, Bree?” Washington asked. He set aside his iPad.

She explained how she knew Dolley. “She’s pregnant and her mom is probably going to kick her out of the house. She doesn’t turn eighteen until next May.”

“She’s not in foster care right now?” Washington questioned.

“No, sir.” Bree studied her painted nails.

“That’ll actually work in our favor better.” Washington looked at his wife who nodded.

“If Dolley gets kicked out,” Mrs. Washington said, “or feels she is in danger, she can stay with us. It’s no trouble.”

“Are you sure?” She looked between them. “I mean, with everything…”

“We want to help your friend if we can,” Washington said. “Give her Mom’s number. We can’t take Dolley from her home if her mom resists but if she needs a place, we’re here.”

“Thank you.”  Bree swallowed. “You guys are amazing.”

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Washington said. “We’re very proud of you.”

A few minutes later, Marty J arrived and the family hugged Bree goodbye.

“We’ll have you over for dinner again soon,” Mrs. Washington assured.

Favorite spots were resumed in the family room and Hamilton cuddled Potato. “What was she telling you guys?” he asked. “A foster kid? I was in the kitchen and didn’t want to intrude.”

Mrs. Washington explained the situation. “If she was in foster care we could have seen about having her assigned to us as we had done with you but right now we can only wait.”

“If she does need a place, what’ll happen?” Hamilton asked.

“It’ll depend on what Dolley wants to do,” Washington said. “We can see her through high school or get her to a safe place.”

Mrs. Washington rubbed France the Pomeranian’s furry belly. “Bree didn’t say how far along she is. It would be best if she were somewhere safe to have the baby. For the baby’s well-being and her own.”

Hamilton chewed on his lip. “Pregnant teens and foster care don’t mix.” He looked at his dad. “I knew a girl who killed her baby.”

“Goodness,” Mrs. Washington murmured.

Washington’s lips went in a thin line. “Does the situation worry you, Alexander, because we can—?”

“No, I’m okay,” Hamilton assured. “I want to help, too.”

“Very well, we’ll have Bree keep us informed.”

 

As Mount Vernon was getting ready for bed, Jefferson made himself comfortable to watch a documentary and enjoy a night to himself. Yet being alone in his own apartment made him think of Burr, also alone. Other than a few calls and texts to update him on Washington and Hamilton, he hadn’t seen his friend, and that contact had been weeks ago. He picked up his phone and wondered what to say. Should he apologize for not reaching out? Neither of them was great at communicating and happily kept to themselves. Maybe just send a ‘hey, how’ve you been?’ Or maybe let it go. What could he and Burr even talk about? They had nothing in common and with Burr estranged from Hamilton, they couldn’t talk about him and his progress. Madison hadn’t reached out to Burr either, Jefferson knew, and Madison had the friendlier personality with people he liked. Were the few years they’d known each other done with? A college friendship merely built on seeing each other daily and working together? But it had felt like more. They’d weathered crisis together. Was that all empty?

Well, it wouldn’t hurt him to send a text. _Hey, how’re you doing?_ He couldn’t stop from adding an apology, though. _Sorry I haven’t reached out to you more. Work, school, and Jemmy take up a lot of time._ It wasn’t a lie, those three things controlled his life and this evening alone was a rare gift.

Burr replied a few minutes later. _All good, man._

Jefferson waited for more but the screen went dark on his phone without another message. He didn’t want to pester and let it go. He wasn’t going to force a friendship that may have never truly existed. Plus, Burr had a stronger bond with Angelica and if he weren’t well—physically or mentally—she would let him know. Thinking of Angelica made him realize he hadn’t talked to her in a while either and sent a hello.

 _Dude, I thought you went AWOL_ , she replied within seconds. _Its that boyfriend, isn’t it? Got you on a tight leash._

Jefferson grinned as he typed: _You know it. You should get yourself one._

 _Hell no! I’m an independent woman who needs no man. Anyway, can you come over and open a jar for me?_ She ended with a winking face.

 _Nope, already in bed_ , he teased back.

_It’s nine, T. How old are you?_

_According to my body, fifty-one._

_James is so lucky._

_I know._

The conversation fell silent as they resumed their solitary evening’s.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bess knows big words.

Sunday morning quiet filled Mount Vernon. Mrs. Washington had gotten up early as usual to let out the dogs and feed them but returned to bed with the pack to read the newspaper while her husband grabbed some more sleep after he took his numerous meds. As she expected from the previous weekends, the door opened a little after eight and Hamilton came in to snuggle Potato.

“Did you sleep well?” Mrs. Washington asked.

Hamilton yawned. “Mostly.” He rubbed Potato’s belly.

“Is John still asleep?” They had acquired a new stray on the weekends now to keep Hamilton company.

“Just got up, too.”

Washington rolled over having woken to his son’s voice. He rubbed Hamilton’s back. “Got your angry dog contained?”

“She’s a good girl,” Hamilton protested and instantly Potato growled as Washington sat up.

“Sure.” Washington beckoned Potomac to him and ruffled the terrier’s shaggy hair. “This is a good dog.”

“We know you love Potato, too,” Mrs. Washington said. She got out of bed and slipped on her dressing gown over her long nightdress. “I’ll get breakfast started.”

All the dogs jumped off the bed and hurried after her.

Washington lay back down. “How’re you feeling?”

Hamilton picked at his bare foot. “Tired, but not, like, sleepy.”

“I understand. Would you feel up for a visit to Montpelier? Mom said that Bess has been asking for you. You haven’t met the baby yet.”

“I think so.”

The family, including Laurens, soon sat down to pancakes and bacon. Once everyone was dressed and the Madison’s confirmed they’d enjoy a visit, the family walked over and soaked up the sun and warmth of spring. Birds chirped from the tall, leafy trees that shaded sections of the sidewalk from their manicured yards behind iron fences.

The Washington’s walked holding hands while the boys followed behind.

As they neared Montpelier, a dog barked from a nearby yard. Further away, car tires squealed.

With a few slower steps, Hamilton stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Laurens asked with a glance back at his friend.

Hamilton stared straight ahead, as a tremble ran through his body and he rocked on his feet.

With a frown, Laurens reached out to him, but at the touch, Hamilton smacked his arm away. “Alex?”

The Washington’s turned around at the panic in Laurens’ voice.

Washington reached toward his son as he watched the color drain from Hamilton’s face but his boy flinched and drew himself in tight. His chest rose and fell in exaggerated breaths. 

_Lexi!_

Hamilton squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of heat flooded his body at the voice of his biological father screaming in his head. He covered his face, almost gouging out his eyes.

“Alexander,” Washington spoke soft and low. “I’m right here. You’re okay. May I touch you?”

Hamilton couldn’t respond. The voice, the gunshot, the pain. The pain! He gasped as the scar on his hip tingled. He moved his hand to grasp at his leg. He continued to twitch and tremble, as sensations he couldn’t place attacked all his senses.

“Panic attack?” Laurens pinched at his lip while a chill ran through him. He wanted to grab Hamilton but knew to defer to Washington to decide what to do.

“No.” Washington glanced at his wife, the fear and grief shimmering in her eyes. His attention snapped back to his son as he whimpered. “Alexander, can you take my hand?”

He let go of his hip to reach out with his right hand, eyes still closed.

Washington grasped the cold fingers. “Good boy. Deep breathes. I’m right here.”

With a shaky breath, Hamilton opened his eyes a sliver. A tremor jerked his body and he wavered on his feet. The voice was gone from his head, at least.

“We’ll go home,” Washington said. “Can you walk?”

In response, Hamilton’s knees buckled. 

Washington managed to catch him and scoop him up.

“George,” Mrs. Washington fretted as she wrung her hands. “Don’t overexert yourself.”

“It’s fine,” Washington said. Although halfway home, he was less sure but he knew Laurens couldn’t provide the same security Hamilton needed right now. With slower steps, he made it inside the house and sank down onto the couch in the front room.

Hamilton kept Washington’s arms tight around him.

“Flashback?” Washington asked and kept his voice low and even.

“I think so,” Hamilton whispered. His breathing quickened again and he squeezed his dad’s hands. The tingle spread through his hip and he flinched.

“Breathe with me,” Washington said. After a few minutes, he noted some of the tension leaving his son’s body. “Come lie down in the family room. I’ll stay with you. If you like, maybe, Bess can visit here later.”

Hamilton nodded. His legs wobbled as he stood and he walked to the family room in a jagged line. He dropped on the couch and closed his eyes as Potato lay on his chest. The added weight comforted him and he drifted into an exhausted sleep.

A few steps behind, Washington sank into his recliner, glad of the excuse to rest himself as his heart continued to pound from exertion.

***

Hamilton wasn’t up for socializing that day but Mrs. Madison brought Bess and Reuben over the following weekend.

After the initial cooing over the baby, Hamilton, and Laurens—back for the weekend—sat on the floor to play with Bess. The women sat nearby to drink coffee, gossip, and tell Reuben how handsome he was.

“Pretty!” Bess exclaimed and reached for the bracelet on Hamilton’s left wrist.

Hamilton quickly tugged down his sleeve. “Sorry, no touch.” He handed her a block.

She let it clatter on top of the other blocks. “I want!” Bess attempted to climb on him.

“Bess,” Mrs. Madison warned. “Alexander doesn’t have to share his bracelet if he doesn’t want to. Some things are personal and we don’t have to share.”

Bess banged two blocks together. “Poop.”

“Elisabeth!”

She gave her mom a saucy grin while the boys and Mrs. Washington tried not to laugh.

“Here, Bess,” Hamilton said and pushed up his sleeve. “But don’t touch. John made it for me.”

Bess examined the bracelet with a serious frown. “Grandiloquent.”

The boys busted out laughing.

“That’s a big word, Bess,” Hamilton said and tousled her fair curls. “You are very refined.”

“Jemmy taught her that,” Mrs. Madison said as she bounced Reuben in her arms. “He’s discovered that toddlers will repeat anything.”

“Salacious,” Bess said.

“She’s going to have quite the vocabulary,” Mrs. Washington declared.

“Shith,” Bess grinned.

Mrs. Madison sighed. “I’ve had six quiet, obedient children; I’ve been expecting a troublemaker to pop up.”

“She’ll turn out fine,” Mrs. Washington said. “More coffee, Eleanor?”

“I have eight children, Martha, seven of whom still live at home,” she said. “I run merely on coffee.” She handed Reuben to Hamilton and the women headed into the kitchen.

Hamilton rubbed Reuben’s bald head as the baby’s large blue eyes stared at him.

“I don’t think he’s going to grant you three wishes,” Laurens teased. He tapped Reuben’s nose and watched the baby blink in stunned surprise.

“I already got my three wishes,” Hamilton said. “Parents, an education, and you.”

Laurens rolled his eyes. “Why are you so cheesy?”

“Cheese!” Bess crawled into Laurens’ lap and clutched his t-shirt in her chubby fists. “Cheese!” She bopped him on the nose.

Hamilton chuckled. “Cheese does sound good right now.”

In the kitchen, the women watched from the doorway.

“They’re cute together,” Mrs. Madison said and sipped her coffee.

“Alexander does love Bess,” Mrs. Washington said.

“I meant your boy and John.” She smiled at her friend.

Mrs. Washington shook her head. “No relationship drama with Alexander would be appreciated right now.” She watched them tease each other and rile up the babies. A smile touched her lips. “But you are correct.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dolley and Noodle.

“Dear, look at this.” Mrs. Washington handed over her phone to her husband where he sat in his recliner.

Washington looked at the picture. “That’s a dog.”

“Indeed, George.” Mrs. Washington shook her head in amusement. “The animal shelter sent me the picture. She’s—”

“No,” Washington interrupted. “We have four. That’s enough.”

Mrs. Washington ignored him and continued. “She’s an eight-year-old Dachshund and has a bit of a skin condition but the shelter’s vet thinks a healthy diet will help clear that up.”

“Martha…”

“I already showed the picture to Alexander.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Washington ran a hand down his face. “Fine. What’s her name?”

“Noodle.”

“Of course it is.” He sighed. “Go get the mutt. Alexander can forge my signature.”

Mrs. Washington smiled. “You’ll love her, dear.” She got off the couch and headed for the stairs to call down their son.

“Are we getting the dog?” Hamilton asked.

“Yes.”

“Sweet!” He scampered down the stairs. “Is Dad coming with us?”

“I don’t think so,” Mrs. Washington said.

Hamilton ran past his mom and into the family room. “Come on, Dad!” He shook the back of the recliner.

“Okay, you win.” Washington got up. “Anything for my Alexander.”

Hamilton grinned. It was easier to smile now. College was over and he graduated with a 3.8 and honors. He opted not to walk in the ceremony, though but sat with his parents to watch Laurens and Lafayette receive their diplomas on stage. No one bothered to ask about a party considering what had happened last year at Jefferson’s. The Washington’s had treated the boys to dinner and gave them cash-filled cards.

Now, Hamilton could concentrate more on therapy and get himself ready for law school in the fall. It was summer; the days were long and warm. He could do this.

Washington drove to the animal shelter where his wife was greeted by name when they walked inside.

“Are you getting Noodle?” asked an employee.

“Yes,” Mrs. Washington said with a smile. She’d adopted enough dogs over the years that the shelter waived the dog meets unless there were temperament concerns with the new dog. Nor were they concerned if the husband agreed or not. It was well-known that the Washington house was a forever home for senior dogs.

The little long dog was brought out and Hamilton gushed over her. She was a pathetic-looking thing with patchy fur on her feet and a bald tip on her tail. Her fur was thin and greasy.

“You’re so pretty!” Hamilton told her and she wagged that ratty tail.

Washington knelt down next to them and let Noodle sniff his hand. She didn’t growl, which was a plus.

“Maybe one of the dogs will like you,” Hamilton teased.

Washington rubbed a hand against Hamilton’s head and used it to push himself back up. “Potomac loves me.” He handed his credit card over to the employee while his wife signed the paperwork.

Fifteen minutes later, Noodle sat in the backseat of the Cadillac with Hamilton and promptly threw up once the car moved.

“Great,” Washington moaned. “She’s not a fan of pricey cars.”

“Dear,” Mrs. Washington scolded. “She’s just car sick. I’ll clean it up when we get home.”

At home, the other dogs met their new sister with polite sniffs and tail wags. Potato followed her around as she checked out the yard and the two soon began a short game of chase. Then it was inside to sleep on the couch.

“She’s a perfect fit,” Mrs. Washington declared. She took pictures of the new dog but soon stopped when she received a text.

_My name is Dolley Payne. Bree gave me your number in case of an emergency. My mom kicked me out and I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t know what to do._

“George.” Mrs. Washington handed over her phone.

“Not another dog picture, I hope,” he grumbled but his teasing vanished as he read the message. “Tell her we can pick her up.”

Mrs. Washington sent the message and soon had an address to pick up the girl.

“You can’t go alone,” Washington said and they both glanced at Hamilton petting Potato and Noodle.

“I can babysit myself for a half hour,” Hamilton said. “I promise. Someone has to make sure Noodle doesn’t get scared.”

“Thank you, Alexander.” Washington grabbed his car keys and followed his wife into the garage.

It wasn’t long before they returned with the very pregnant girl. She stood a little taller than Hamilton did with dark brown, almost black hair and eyes. Her cheeks were rosy and she sported a half-healed black eye.

“Dolley,” Mrs. Washington said, “this is our son, Alexander.”

“Hi,” Hamilton said.

Dolley smiled. “Nice to meet you. What’re the dog’s names?”

Hamilton introduced her to the pack all of whom accepted her at once, except for Potato, who moved away warily of her belly.

“Potato is picky about her people,” Hamilton explained. “She doesn’t even like Dad.”

“I respect a woman with a strong opinion of men,” Dolley said. “Potato, you choose who you want to like, okay?”

Potato wagged her tail.

“I’m sure you won’t have a problem with her,” Mrs. Washington said. “Come upstairs, dear, and we’ll get you settled. Alexander, grab her bag, please.”

Hamilton lugged the heavy, overstuffed suitcase upstairs and into Lafayette’s old room.

“How far are you along, dear?” Mrs. Washington shooed Hamilton out and coaxed Dolley to sit next to her at the edge of the bed.

“Eight months.” Dolley rested a hand on her swollen stomach. “A boy.”

Mrs. Washington smiled. “Have you been able to make it to doctor appointments?”

“I haven’t in the past, like, months.” Dolley reached for Mrs. Washington’s hand and held it against her belly. “He’s kicking.”

“He’s a strong fellow,” she declared. “I’ll make you an appointment and you can talk to the doctor about a birth plan. I’ll be blunt: is your plan to keep the baby?”

Dolley nodded. “I know it’ll be difficult and I hope I’m not being selfish but I want to keep him. He’s my son.”

“I understand.” Mrs. Washington tucked back Dolley’s lank hair. “George and I will help you out as we can. You need to make sure you graduate from high school. Did you finish your junior year?”

Dolley shrugged. “Barely. I’m going to just take my GED next fall.”

“George can guide you on that.” Mrs. Washington watched the teen. “Do you have any relatives that you can trust?”

“No, ma’am.” Dolley picked at her lip. “Only my sister and she’s six.”

“Is she safe?” She laced her fingers with Dolley’s.

“Yes, ma’am.” She stared at their hands. “We have different father’s and Mama doesn’t hate Anna’s dad as much.”

“I see. And your baby’s father?”

“Don’t know.” She winced as the baby gave a powerful kick.

“Was it consensual?”

Dolley nodded.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” Mrs. Washington watched the teen.

“No.” She stopped a yawn. “I think I would like a nap. I’m very appreciative of you and your husband taking me in. Bree told me about his health and your son’s anxiety. I promise I won’t be a nuisance.”

Mrs. Washington patted her hands. “Don’t fret, dear. We love a full house.” She stood. “I’ll let you get settled. The bathroom is stocked with anything you might need. Make yourself at home, Dolley.”

“Thank you.”

She closed the bedroom door and found Hamilton waiting on the stairs.

“New sister?” he asked and got to his feet.

“I don’t know how long she will stay.” Mrs. Washington touched his cheek. “But I’m sure she would appreciate having you look out for her as a big brother.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Dolley’s “nap” lasted until nine the next morning. Mrs. Washington checked on her several times and each time she was deep asleep. She rightly assumed that Dolley hadn’t had a decent sleep in months.

Once she got up the next morning, Dolley took her time getting ready and had a long bath. When she came downstairs for lunch, she looked almost like a different girl, her hair clean and shiny, a glow in her cheeks, and sparkle in her eyes.

“Did you sleep well, dear?” Mrs. Washington asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dolley said. “I feel human again.” She smiled at Hamilton sitting at the kitchen table. “Good morning, Alex.”

“Zander,” Hamilton mumbled under his breath. “Good morning.”

Dolley heard him and corrected herself. “Good morning, Alexander.”

He grinned.

“Go tell Dad it’s time for lunch,” Mrs. Washington told him.

Hamilton scampered off.

Mrs. Washington set bowls and spoons on the table and touched Dolley’s shoulder. “You look happier now, dear.”

“I feel less overwhelmed,” she said. “You guys are really amazing to take me in. I promise I won’t be a burden and I’ll look for my own place.”

“You won’t be a burden.” Mrs. Washington pulled out a chair for Dolley to sit. “You need to be safe and comfortable before you’re on your own. George and I do encourage others to become foster parents and take pride in what we did but we don’t want to see any children end up in care. We want your son to have a good start.”

Dolley stared at her belly. “Thank you.”

Washington and Hamilton returned. The pack of dogs woke at their footsteps and scurried in from the family room. Potato and Noodle barked at Dolley.

“Girls, settle down,” Mrs. Washington told the dogs.

The dogs minded and sniffed over Dolley. They decided she was fine and barked at Washington instead.

Washington merely sighed and sat. “I knew Potato would corrupt the new dog. Why does she hate me, Martha?”

“I don’t know, dear,” Mrs. Washington said with a faint smile. She set a bowl of stew on the table.

“You’re too tall,” Hamilton said. “She hates Lafayette and Thomas the most, too.”

“We’ve had the dang dog for two years,” Washington grumbled. “You’d think she’d get over it.”

“Potato is a good girl,” Hamilton insisted and knelt down to pet the dogs. “So is Noodle.”

Soon the humans were seated at the table and dished up the stew and passed around bread.

“Is Anna your only sibling?” Mrs. Washington asked Dolley after everyone had a chance for several bites.

“I have older brothers,” Dolley said and dipped a piece of bread in the thick broth. “One is in jail and I don’t know where the other is. Home has always been rather chaotic.”

Mrs. Washington murmured her sympathy while Hamilton said, “I don’t know where my brother is either.”

Dolley met his eyes. “Fun times.” She pursed her lips and pointed at her belly. “This was only a matter of time because no one cared about me or taught me anything.”

“We’ll remedy that,” Mrs. Washington said. “You’ll be well prepared for the birth and taking care of a baby. A dear friend of ours just had her eighth child and I know she’d be happy to answer all your questions about childbirth.”

Dolley finished chewing a bite of potato. “Bree said you guys never had children of your own. How come?”

“I’m sterile,” said Washington not embarrassment to share the truth. “We weren’t interested in spending the money on fertility treatments and opted to help children in need instead.”

Dolley nodded, as she said, “How come you never adopted anyone before Alexander?”

Hamilton glanced between his parents. “Same. Why am I the first?”

Washington chuckled. “Just never felt right before.” He glanced at his wife.

Mrs. Washington nodded. “We wanted to help as many children as we could and not put our own kids through the chaos of fosters coming and going. I know Alexander understands the pain and annoyance of dealing with the foster parent’s children.”

“They weren’t all bad,” Hamilton said, “but those were usually the worst homes.”

The kitchen grew quiet as everyone focused on their food.

“What school do you go to?” Washington asked.

She named a nearby public high school. “I’d rather drop out now and get my GED.”

“I can get you some practice tests and make sure you’re able to pass,” Washington said.

“Dad’s a teacher,” Hamilton explained. “Good luck skimping on your schooling.”

“Hush,” Washington scolded. “As long as Dolley gets a diploma I have no qualms with it not being the traditional way. If you do need extra schooling, I can help you do it online for your senior year and at home. Becoming a mother is all the more reason to have a solid foundation for your future.”

“Yes, sir.”  Dolley looked between the Washington’s. “What happens if my mother shows up?”

“How much trouble do you expect?” Washington asked as a bad taste filled his mouth. If they were about to embark on another Stevens tragedy, he wanted out right then. He didn’t have the energy to see another child shot.

“Screaming and name calling mostly,” Dolley said. “She’d probably yell at you guys, too. She likes the sound of her voice at top volume.”

“I see,” Washington said. “We’ll do what we can to keep you safe.”

“Thanks.” Dolley stared at her food.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Burr

“Anymore boxes?” Jefferson asked, hoping that maybe, _maybe_ , he could get his sister packed and moved out of the dorm without an interaction with her roommate Bree.

“Nope,” Marty J said. “Last one.”

“Awesome.” Jefferson picked up the box. “You’re getting a new roommate next year, right?”

Marty J rolled her eyes. “I like Bree.”

“Ugh.”

She opened the door and a grin spread across her face. “Hey, Bree! Thomas was just asking about you and hoping he’d get to say goodbye.”

A grimace settled on Jefferson’s face. “Not what I said.” He tightened his hold on the box. “I have to ask, Bree, why haven’t you tortured Marty J? She’s a Jefferson, too.”

“I don’t torture you because you’re a Jefferson,” Bree said with a teasing grin as she closed the door. “I do it because you’re shy and you don’t know how to react.”

“Well, maybe you should use your brain and stop,” he grumbled.

Bree rolled her eyes. “Maybe you could use yours and think of a better comeback. Wait.” Her face lit up. “You don’t have one.”

“Ouch!” Marty J said with a giggle. “Sorry, bro.”

“Ugh, I hate both of you.” He stared at the closed door, hands occupied with the box. “Marty, can you get the door.”

“Nah.” She pulled out her phone and searched for a picture to show Bree.

“Martha June!” Jefferson complained. “I’m helping you move, you can be nice. Bree is corrupting you.”

Marty J whispered to Bree, “What should I do?”

“Let him suffer,” Bree whispered back. Louder, she said, “I love the pictures of you as a baby, Thomas. You were so cute and chubby.”

Jefferson dropped the box. “Oh, my God!” Heat flooded his face and he tugged at his collar.

Marty J giggled. “Don’t worry, I haven’t shown her the naked baby pictures yet.” 

Jefferson let the door slam behind him.

“He’s so sensitive,” Bree said. “Maybe I should be nicer to him.”

Marty J thought for a moment. “Nah.”

***

At the familiar sound of high-heeled shoes, Burr looked up over his cubicle divider to see Theodosia smiling at him.

“You look very sharp today, Mr. Burr,” she said. “That color compliments you well.”

Burr glanced down to see what he was wearing: a mint green dress shirt. “Thanks.”

She came around his desk and set a Mountain Dew in front of his keyboard. “Are you doing anything this weekend?”

“No.” Burr stared at the pop can ready to chug it and hope for a little energy.

“I’ll take you shopping then.”

Burr looked over his shoulder at her as his forehead wrinkled. “I... I don’t...”

“You’ll have fun.” Theodosia rested her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t refuse me, Mr. Burr.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He had no clue what to think.

“I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday.” She squeezed his shoulders and walked away.

Burr cussed under his breath. What was he getting himself into?

 

Saturday morning, he woke early to shower and decide what to wear. His wardrobe went from business to grunge with nothing in between. He found one pair of jeans without holes due to the fact he never wore them because they didn’t fit. He was pretty convinced they were Hamilton’s and had somehow ended up in his stuff. A few hours without blood circulation wouldn’t kill him, right? He got his legs into the skinny cut but had to yank and tug over his thighs. After all the effort, they didn’t button. Plus there was zero groin room and things were not where they ought to be. Did he want to suffer and worry about tearing the jeans if he moved but look nice or be able to breathe and move but look scrappy?

The decision was made for him when he attempted to sit and the back seam split. His face grew hot just at the thought if that had happened while he was with Theodosia. 

His lower half rejoiced to be free of the constraining fabric. 

He picked an old pair of jeans with the most aesthetic-looking tears and began the search for a top. He had one casual button-down shirt but it drowned him in fabric at the sides and sleeves. That coupled with his torn jeans and he looked pathetic.

He would have to cancel, pretend he woke up with a stomach bug. But he wanted to go. He wanted to be around Theodosia.

The quiet, frustrated silence ended by his phone ringing: Theodosia.

Maybe she was going to cancel, he hoped.

“Do you want to go a little earlier?” Theodosia asked. “I could pick you up in twenty if you’re ready.”

Burr gnawed on his lip and tried to think what to say, how to explain.

“Aaron?”

It was the first time he’d heard her say his name and all his fears vanished. “I don’t have anything to wear,” he admitted. “I only have work clothes and some old jeans and shirts.”

“Don’t stress about that,” Theodosia said a faint giggle in her voice. “Wear whatever you want. I’ll be there soon.”

Burr said goodbye and tossed his phone on his bed. He figured out which t-shirt looked the best and layered it under the baggy shirt. Theodosia could veto the shirt if she wanted to.

Shoes were another disappointment and he stuffed his feet into his worn sneakers. Even though she said told him not to worry, he was subdued when he got in her car twenty minutes later. She, of course, looked amazing in a beige shirtdress with her hair perfectly wavy over her shoulders.

“Quit fretting, you silly goose,” she said. “We’re going to get you some new clothes.”

“Theo...” Burr ground his teeth.

“Don’t argue with me, Mr. Burr. My new assistant needs to look sharp.”

Burr stared at her. “I’m not qualified.”

“Says who?” Theodosia merged onto the interstate. “You don’t even know what you’ll be doing.”

“Okay... What will I be doing?”

She waved his words away. “Save the work talk for business hours.  I’ll give you the job description on Monday and you can make your decision.”

“Fair enough.” Burr glanced out the window as they left the city. “Where’re we going?”

“Somewhere with decent shopping.”

“Like?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“NYC.”

“Theo!” Again, he didn’t know what to think. “You could have warned me.”

“You would have said no. Find some music. We’ll be there in an hour and fifteen minutes.”

“How fast are you driving?” Burr questioned.

“Hush.”

She was right on her timing and had zero qualms making her way through the excessive traffic and found a parking garage near the mall she wanted.

“Remember where we’re parked,” Theodosia said as she slipped her arm through Burr’s. “Let’s shop!”

“You rich people are crazy,” Burr said.

She giggled. “Enjoy yourself.” She led him into a department store and steered him toward the men’s section.

Within minutes—and before he had a clue what was going on—Burr had several shirts in his arms and Theodosia continued to pile on more. He would never forget how Washington had taken him shopping for a suit before their first off-campus debate and stocked him up on other necessities but this felt different. He knew Washington had wanted nothing in return. Once he brought you into his circle, you were his boy and he took care of you. Theodosia would want something in return, he was certain.

“Alright, let’s see...” Theodosia glanced around and dragged Burr toward the dressing rooms.

The dressing rooms were huge and private with actual flattering lights.

She unloaded the clothes from his arms. “What do you want to try on first?”

Burr blinked, his mind struggling to know what she wanted, why she was doing this. Was it a sexual thing? She clearly intended him to try on the clothes with her in the room. That had to be it. It wasn’t as if it hadn’t crossed his mind before.

He hung up his baggy shirt and grabbed one of the dress shirts.

Theodosia stopped him from putting it on and handed him a white fitted t-shirt.

Well, he’d see what happened and stripped off his t-shirt.

She didn’t say anything and had taken out her phone and typed out a message. 

Burr changed out of his jeans and stared at the new Burr in the mirror. “Theo?”

Theodosia looked up. “Oh, that looks nice!” She stood and examined him, checking the way everything fit but not crossing any boundaries. “Do you like it?”

“I think so.” He definitely liked the way he looked, professional and like he had his life together.

“Good.” She grabbed a few ties and held them up to see what color worked best.

As she made her decision, Burr realized what she wanted: a toy. Something she could dress up how she wanted and work into her ideal. She coveted him as her assistant and she would make sure he looked the way she wanted. Next, she would require him to act exactly how she desired. She wanted to change him.

 _So be it_ , Burr thought. He hated who he was anyway.

For the next twenty minutes, Burr tried on a variety of shirts and pants and waited patiently while Theodosia matched things and changed her mind and made him change again and again. He deferred to her decision and she handed him three shirts and two pairs of pants. 

“Let’s look some more,” she said with a smile.

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yes, ma’am.”

In a different store, Theodosia picked through jeans and handed him several pairs. She found casual button-down shirts, t-shirts, and a hoodie.

That dressing room was no less elaborate. Burr tried on more clothes. He grunted as he tried on the first pair of jeans. “Too tight.” He attempted to get them off before Theodosia could see how much of him didn’t fit.

“Wait a sec.” Theodosia stood. “I’ve never seen you in skinny jeans.”

“Things are being smushed,” he complained. He shivered as her hand touched his bare arm.

“No ball room?” she teased.

Heat crept up his neck and turned his ears red. “Mmmhmm.”

“Alright, not that pair.” She returned to her seat.

He sighed with relief to unzip the jeans. A different pair fit much more comfortably. “I like these ones.”

Theodosia looked up from her phone. “Nice.” She chose one of the t-shirts and examined the finished product. “Casual but classy.”

Burr smiled.

Theodosia returned it and tapped his nose. “You’re having fun; I’m glad.”

He ducked his head and murmured, “You’re too good to me.”

She chuckled. “Let’s get these clothes and find some lunch.” She poked his stomach. “I can hear it gurgling.” 

More clothes paid for, Burr carried the bags and followed Theodosia to a Tai restaurant in the mall. Her arm looped through his as they waited to be seated. Burr glanced at her hand, her perfect nails and wondered what she’d do if he slipped his hand in hers.

 _She’s married_ , Angelica’s voice shouted in his head and he snapped his eyes forward.

The reminder of that crucial piece of information made him wonder, again, what her agenda was. As far as he knew, she and her husband didn’t have children. It wasn’t as if she was an empty-nester attempting to fill a void, plus she was way too young for that. Maybe he was thinking about it all wrong and it wasn’t much different from Washington helping him out. But she was only ten years older and female.

Burr couldn’t stop the fast thump of his heart as they sat across from each other in a booth. What would it be like to be with her, someone of the opposite sex and experienced?

No, he pushed the idea away. She was married and clearly saw him as a wayward kid who needed guidance and clothes bought for him. She wasn’t looking for a romantic partner.

“What sounds good?” Theodosia asked.

He hadn’t even paid attention to the menu. “Um, well, um, I’ve never eaten Tai food before.”

“Mr. Burr,” Theodosia said in a mock stern voice, “we are going to put some culture in you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He _was_ a project for her. Why, he wasn’t sure but he’d let her try to fix him.

She ordered a variety for them both, then folded her hands on the table and watched him. “You’ve told me about your friend. I know where you live and I know you grew up poor but I don’t know much else about you. Do you have any hobbies?”

At least she didn’t want to know _who_ he was. “Um, not really.” Burr fiddled with the cloth napkin. “Sleeping.”

“Well…”

“What about you?” Burr asked quickly.

A faint smile touched her lips. “Other than a workaholic, I do enjoy photography. City scenes and vintage aesthetics mostly.”

“Cool.” He licked his lips. “Maybe you could show me how it’s done.”

“I’d like that.”

Food arrived and Burr dutifully tasted everything. “You have exquisite taste, madam.”

“Cheers, Mr. Burr.” She clinked her glass with his.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soul-searching.

The kids sat on the floor in the front room playing Scrabble at the coffee table while Potato and Noodle kept them company. The two dogs had become fast friends and followed one another everywhere.

The doorbell rang and Potomac ran out of the kitchen barking. The other dogs followed suit until a chorus of yaps and barks prevented the humans from hearing each other. 

Washington’s loud voice quieted them as he looked through the peephole. He frowned and glanced at the kids. “Alexander, close the curtains.”

Hamilton jumped up to obey and pulled the cord to cover the window.

“Is it my mom?” Dolley whispered as a fist pounded on the door.

Washington gestured for her to look.

As the dogs resumed their chorus, Dolley’s face settled into a grimace and she nodded at Washington. 

“Both of you go upstairs,” Washington commanded. He met Hamilton’s frightened blue-violet eyes and saw him shiver. The pounding on the door continued, followed by shouting and expletives. Washington ignored it and wrapped his arms around his son. “Go upstairs and put in your earbuds. Nothing is going to happen, I promise.”

Hamilton nodded. He took Dolley’s hand and they went upstairs to his room. Potato and Noodle ran after them.

Washington looked at his wife standing in the kitchen doorway, hands clutched together. Once he saw the bedroom door close upstairs, he opened the front door but he kept the metal security door locked. “Yes?”

A large woman with the same dark hair and fair skin as Dolley but little other resemblance sneered at him. “You kidnapped my daughter, you pervert.”

This was going to be fun. “I’ve done no such thing.” Washington kept his voice low and calm. “Please leave before I call the police for disturbing the peace.”

“I’ll call them for kidnapping!” she shouted and kicked at the security door.

Washington turned to his wife. “Call the police.”

“I’ll kill both of you!” the woman screamed. “Give me back my daughter.” She grabbed the doorknob and rattled it between her plump hands.

Washington closed the front door as she resumed kicking. His heart pounded in his chest and an unaccustomed sweatiness dampened his shirt.

Upstairs, the bedroom door opened and Hamilton crept toward the stairs.

“Get back in your room, Alexander,” Washington commanded.

“What’s going on?” Hamilton asked.

“Get back in your room!”

Hamilton chewed on his lip. “Dad?”

“Alexander!” Washington snapped. “Get. In. Your room.”

“George, don’t yell at him,” Mrs. Washington said firmly. “The police are on their way.”

He didn’t get a chance to answer as a bang of clattering metal rang out and the front door swung open.

Right as Mrs. Payne barged into the house and demanded to know where her daughter was, the bedroom door reopened upstairs and Dolley called down, “Alexander is having a panic attack.”

“Dolley!” Mrs. Payne shouted and started to run up the stairs.

Washington managed to stop her and barred the stairs. “Leave her alone.”

“To hell with you, pervert!” Mrs. Payne punched him. “Dolley, get down here!”

“No!” Dolley shouted back. “I’m staying.”

A scream followed her words as Hamilton lost it.

The Washington’s exchanged a look of concern and desperation. Washington could hold the deranged woman off but that meant neither he nor his wife could get upstairs to their son. 

“Get out of the way!” Mrs. Payne kicked at Washington but she couldn’t get her legs up very high and there wasn’t much strength in her punches.

“Alexander, don’t!” Dolley shouted from upstairs. “Sir, I think he’s having a seizure.”

Washington gave up barring Mrs. Payne and ran upstairs. Sweat soaked his shirt and his mind tossed itself in every direction and he began to wonder if he wasn’t having his own panic attack.

Hamilton was in a full-blown meltdown on the floor in his room, curled in a ball, shaking, eyes rolled back, and saliva running down his chin. He screamed again. He could see Mr. Stevens standing in front of him, gun drawn. He could hear yelling, knew the man was in his house. He would shoot Washington. He would shoot his son. The nightmare would never end. He wanted it to end.

Dolley ran to her room and locked the door as her mother made it upstairs.

But whatever happened between then, Washington didn’t care. “Alexander.” He knelt near his son and struggled to assess the situation. It was another flashback, he was certain, and far worse than the first one. Hamilton was locked into his terror. “Alexander. I’m here. You’re safe. I’m here.” He touched his son’s head but drew back at the first flinch. “Alexander, let me help you. Please.” He didn’t realize he was crying until he tasted salt on his lips. _God, let me help my son!_

A burst of anger careened into his mind and he jumped to his feet and thundered down the hall to Lafayette’s old room where the crazy woman pounded on the door. Washington shoved her. “Get out of my house!” he bellowed. “Never come here again.” His body twitched, trembled. Everything he had wanted to do to Mr. Stevens, he would do to this woman. His children had been distressed enough. It didn’t matter that he’d only known Dolley a week. He would protect her. He would protect his son. No one would ever hurt them again.

Whether or not he would have hit her and pummeled her, as he wanted to, he wasn’t sure. Sirens blaring up the driveway stopped his own deranged mind and he backed off to return to Hamilton. His body twitched and a piercing pain throbbed over his right eyebrow.

Mrs. Payne was less sane and resumed pounding on the bedroom door and screaming at her daughter. “Get out of there, you slut! You can’t hide from your own mother!”

She continued to shout as the police handcuffed her and dragged her down the stairs. “You will rot in hell! You are dead to me, Dolley Payne!”

Once she was in the squad car and the front door closed, a blessed silence settled over Mount Vernon. An officer spoke with Mrs. Washington and then with Dolley.

The quiet helped Hamilton break free from the nightmare but he couldn’t move from the floor as every inch of him ached. Washington stroked his hair and spoke softly. Potato and Noodle crept out from under the bed and licked his face.

“You’re safe,” Washington whispered and realized how much his throat burned from yelling at Mrs. Payne... for yelling at his son. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

Hamilton kept his eyes closed, a tic jerking his body occasionally. He found Washington’s hand and held on tight.

“Let me put you on the bed,” Washington said. “I need to talk to the police.”

Hamilton could offer little help getting himself off the floor but Washington managed and set him on the bed and covered him up. “Sleep. I’ll be right back.” His own body ached as he headed downstairs. Mrs. Washington had her arm around Dolley as the girl cried and fretted to the officer about her sister Anna.

“Someone has to go get her,” Dolley said through her tears.

“We’ll send social services—” began the officer.

“No,” Washington said. “Have her brought here.” He staggered down the last few steps. “We’re foster parents. We can take Anna.”

The officer nodded. He was familiar with the backlogged family services and knew the foster agency would be happy to get a kid straight into a home with minimal work.

After a few more questions, the officer took his leave. The sirens and flashing lights faded away and an eerie quiet fell over the house. 

Dolley sat down in the front room and clutched at her stomach.

Mrs. Washington went to search out the other frightened dogs and calm herself down. A cup of chamomile tea with a little brandy in it sounded like a good place to start.

Washington leaned against the banister. No heart attack at least. He was just about to relish in a crisis not requiring the hospital when Dolley moaned.

“I think my water broke,” she said, wide-eyed.

“Martha!” Washington shouted.

Mrs. Washington came out of the kitchen. “Quit yelling, dear.”

He pointed at Dolley. “Baby.”

“Oh.” She hurried over to the teen. “No need to fret. Do you have your bag packed for the hospital?”

“No.” Dolley bit her lip. “I’m not ready!”

“Everything will be fine, love.” Mrs. Washington squeezed her hands. “I’ll get your bag packed and we’ll head to the hospital.” She patted her husband’s shoulder as she made her way up the stairs. “Don’t look so frightened.”

“I’ve never done birth, Martha,” he reminded her and shot a frantic look at Dolley.

“Just stay calm.” She soon returned with a bag stuffed full of everything Dolley would need and took the teen’s arm to help her up.

Washington remained near the stairs hugging the banister. “I’ll stay with Alexander. Keep me updated.”

“Of course, dear.” Mrs. Washington led Dolley toward the kitchen and called back, “Don’t forget to feed the dogs.”

“Yes, ma’am.” When he heard the garage open, Washington headed upstairs to check on his son.

Hamilton remained asleep in the same position as before, his mind and body exhausted. 

Washington sat with him but his mind continued to race in every direction and a wave of anger simmered below the surface. He hadn’t protected his son nor had he protected Dolley. His health hadn’t even gotten in the way this time as an excuse. He flat out hadn’t done his job. He’d let the crazy woman in his house, just as he’d let Mr. Stevens into their lives.

He got off the bed and paced the house but he couldn’t stay there where bad things had happened. He couldn’t leave Hamilton alone, though, and called Laurens.

“Is Alex okay?” Laurens asked at once.

“Well...” Washington rubbed the back of his neck. “He had another flashback. He’s sleeping now. My wife took Dolley to the hospital since her water broke. I need to get a few things for her,” he lied. “Can you come over and stay with Alexander?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Laurens paused for a moment as he figured out what time it was. “I can leave in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, John.”

The anger and frustration remained as Washington roamed the house. First through the family room and kitchen where so many meals and comfortable quiet times had taken place. Then his office where he’s had countless talks with his son. Lafayette’s room—had he ever done enough for that boy? Now it was Dolley’s and he’s already failed her. The middle bedroom was empty now but it had been Bree’s for a short time. Should he have fought harder to keep her in their care? She had made it to college and seemed a good friend. She’d only been with them a few months; he could hardly take credit for how she turned out.

Washington leaned in the doorway of Hamilton’s room. Nathanael Greene had been the boy to live in that room before and had been with them on and off for over a year. He’d been an angry kid—understandable with the back-and-forth situation he was stuck in as his mom did drugs, got clean, relapsed. He’d been lovable, too, though, and in need of much handholding and reassurance. By the second stay, Nathanael had been calling him Dad and placing trust in him. Washington had helped Nathanael through college but never heard from him again. He knew the young man still lived nearby and he’d heard Mr. Madison mention the name once as working for him. But Nathanael had needed to get out on his own, step away from the security of Mount Vernon. It hurt that he didn’t send a letter or text now and then but Washington understood the need to break free from the foster care life and not look back. Should he have pushed Hamilton out of the nest instead of adopting him? Logically, had that been a mistake?

The doorbell ringing was a welcome distraction and Washington hurried downstairs to hush the dogs before they got a chorus going.

“Your security door is busted,” Laurens said as he stepped inside.

“Yeah...” Washington patted Laurens on the shoulder. “Thank you. I’ll be back later.” He hurried off and grabbed Hamilton’s truck keys off the kitchen counter.

Laurens went upstairs and sat on the bed next to Hamilton and browsed on his phone. At least an hour passed before Hamilton stirred. 

He shot up, panting, shaking.

“Alexander.” Laurens touched his shoulder. “You’re safe.”

“Where’s Dad?” he asked in a croaking mumble.

“He had to run to the store, get some stuff for Dolley. I guess she went into labor.”

Hamilton nodded and sucked in a deep breath. He lay back down and rested his head in Laurens’ lap.

Laurens teased his fingers through his tangled hair. “Can I tell you a story?”

Hamilton nodded.

It wasn’t the most enthralling story, but Laurens kept Hamilton’s mind busy as he talked about the silly and stupid things that occurred at the restaurant he worked as a waiter. “I totally spilled the drink on the guy on purpose,” Laurens said. “He was talking shit and needed knocked down a peg.”

“Good job,” Hamilton murmured.

Laurens stroked his cheek. “I’m never going to leave you, Hammy, I promise. Friends for life, okay?”

Hamilton didn’t answer, his mind replaying the first time they’d met. The chemistry, the horny, youthful lust. It had been a roller coaster ride for years as they struggled with jealousy and growing up. He could have—and maybe should have—given up on Laurens several times but for it all to come together at this point, to still have Laurens in his life, it was worth it. It was how things were meant to happen. They’d seen each other at their worst multiple times and never gave up on the other. He didn’t doubt it had all been the right path, the right choices.

“I won’t leave you either, Jack,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Laurens adjusted his position to lay down and let Hamilton burrow into him. He felt the tremors still rolling through his friend and held him tighter. Hamilton’s words replayed in his mind and as the weight of them hit him, a tear rolled down his cheek. For all Hamilton’s pain, Laurens knew he was strong enough now to keep going. He wouldn’t attempt to kill himself again; he wouldn’t leave.

***

Washington took the long way out of the Estates and drove along the back roads until he was out of town and heading north through farm country. The openness helped calm him. Maybe they needed to leave, he thought. Go back to Virginia, coax some land out of his brother, and build a house. Or maybe buy a farm out here to remain close to their friends. But it wasn’t as if the Estates were noisy or crowded. Maybe it would hurt more to leave that house than help. Maybe it wasn’t a fresh start he wanted. But something wasn’t right and he couldn’t place it.

Did he have regrets? Was there anything he could have truly prevented? He had paid for his son to go to NYC but it wasn’t as if he sent him there to meet his biological father. Plus it hadn’t been a bad situation at the start. No one, not even Mr. Stevens, could have known how out of control it would get. Mr. Stevens hadn’t known seeing his son would trigger a mental breakdown. Washington still harbored anger at the man for stalking them and causing Hamilton so much distress but his original intent hadn’t been malicious.

Mr. Stevens hadn’t meant to hurt his son.

Washington slowed the truck down and pulled to the side of the road. He put the truck in park and leaned back in the seat, eyes closed. The anger and hate in his heart and mind was the problem. He’d been trying to run from it, wanted to hide from it. Would forgiving Mr. Stevens help him heal? Could he forgive the man?

It wasn’t his fault, he’d been mentally ill but that didn’t mean he hadn’t caused Hamilton anguish and physical injury. Washington had his faith but it had never been something he sought out or used as guidance. Forgiving Mr. Stevens would be the Christian thing to do but that didn’t mean Mr. Stevens deserved it. To forgive was to give himself peace of mind, put the past away, and heal. Mr. Stevens had done them wrong—ill or not—and continued to hurt them. But Washington knew he could fix his own anger.

It didn’t matter where—he didn’t need to find out where Mr. Stevens was buried or go to Nevis or go to his church. Only that he said it and believed it.

Washington opened his eyes and stared out the bug-splattered windshield. “I forgive,” he said aloud, his voice hollow in the stillness. “I forgive.”

He would never forget and a part of what Mr. Stevens did _wasn’t_ forgivable but Washington was determined to live free of the pain, hate, and anger. This mess wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t a bad parent and hadn’t failed Hamilton. He was forgiving himself the damage he’d done to his own body and soul. Forgiving himself the hate he’d languished his mind in and let his pain hurt others. He’d get himself back and in doing so be able to truly be there for his children. He would be the man he wanted to be.

A phone ringing broke the silence and Washington struggled to pull himself out of his headspace and comprehend the noise. He answered his wife’s call with a calm, “Yes, dear?”

“Dolley’s still in labor,” Mrs. Washington said. “But everything is going well. How is Alexander?”

“Sleeping.” Washington paused. “At least he was when I left. John’s with him, I had to get out for a bit. Martha, I’m sorry. I know I’ve put you through a lot this past year. I wanted you to know that I’m aware of my behavior and I—”

“George,” Mrs. Washington interrupted, “I will always forgive you. I hold none of this against you. We’ve always been strong together and we’ll continue to do so.”

“I love you.”

“I know, dear,” Mrs. Washington said. “You will always have my heart. I have to get back to Dolley. I’ll call you soon.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. 

Washington clutched the phone in his hand. Did he feel better? Marginally, he thought. It would take time to readjust his thinking and heal his mind. He’d do it for himself, though, and when he was strong, he could be stronger for his wife and son.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new stray

Washington returned home to find both boys asleep. He let them be and went downstairs to his office for a swallow of whiskey to calm the last of his fried nerves. The dogs—including Potato and Noodle—followed him around and he soon concluded it was past their dinnertime. Thankful his wife left the feeding instructions on the fridge for each dog. He soon had their dry and/or wet food and medications dished up and five happy dogs chowing down.

Above the crunching and snorting, Washington’s phone rang and he quickly answered his wife’s call.

“A boy. Eight pounds and two ounces,” Mrs. Washington said with a hint of pride in her voice. “Dolley and baby are fine, although the poor girl is exhausted and overwhelmed. The birth was rather emotionally traumatic but might be the best birth control for her.”

“You’re callous, my dear,” Washington said and chuckled. “I’m glad it went as smooth as it could.”

“Indeed.” Mrs. Washington paused. “Dolley would like me to stay with her. Could you bring me a few things? I’ll text you a list. Did you feed the dogs?”

“I will, and yes,” Washington answered.

“Thank you, dear. I’ll see you soon.”

Washington hung up and turned to the pack licking down their bowls. “Can you believe my own wife doesn’t think I’d remember you guys?”

Potato growled at him.

“Touché.” He turned around and jumped, phone hitting the floor with a clunk. “Jesus, John.”

“Sorry,” Laurens said with a grin. “I didn’t want to intrude on your moment with the dogs.”

Washington shook his head. “Is Alexander awake?”

“Yeah, he wanted something to drink.”

“Good.” He waited for Laurens to pour a glass of orange juice and followed him upstairs.

Hamilton sat up and reached out to his dad.

Washington sat next to him and cuddled him for a moment. “Dolley had her baby. A healthy eight pounds. Mom is going to stay and I need to take her a few things.” He kissed Hamilton’s head. “I’ll only be an hour and bring something back for dinner. What would you like?”

“Fried chicken,” Hamilton whispered. He accepted the glass from Laurens and soothed his raspy throat.

Ten minutes later, Washington had his wife’s requested items and headed to the hospital. He called her when he arrived and she met him outside the maternity ward.

“How’s our boy?” she asked.

“He’ll recover,” Washington said.

Mrs. Washington watched him. “And you?”

“I think I’ve found some peace.”

“I’m glad.” She rose up on her toes to kiss him.

“Give my regards to Dolley.” Washington pulled his wife close to him. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“God willing.” She rested her head against his chest. “She should be discharged tomorrow afternoon. George—” She looked up at him “—we don’t have a crib or anything for the baby.”

Washington sighed. He wanted to say he’d take care of that and get everything tonight but the only thing he wanted to do was take fried chicken to his boy and stay with him. Supplies could wait until morning. “We’ll figure out something.” He kissed her. “I have to pick up dinner for the boys. Call me later tonight.”

“Of course.”

He left the hospital and picked up the chicken. As he left the fast-food chain, his phone rang with a call from Laurens. “Is everything okay?”

“Um, Alexander is fine,” said Laurens. “But, um, did you know you were getting a little girl? A social worker is here.”

“Shit,” Washington muttered. “Yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hung up and hurried into Hamilton’s truck. He—and his wife—had forgotten the agreement to take Anna Payne. No, not forgotten, he decided, but expecting it to take longer for her arrival.

Truck parked in the garage, Washington set the chicken on the kitchen counter and strode into the front room.

The social worker sat on the couch across from Laurens in an armchair. A little girl with dark hair colored at the coffee table. Laurens had put the dogs upstairs to limit the commotion.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Washington said. “It’s been a chaotic day.”

“I understand,” the social worker said. She turned her attention to the girl, “Anna, this is George. He’s going to help take care of you.”

Anna continued to color.

The social worker stood. “I need to talk to you in private, George.”

Washington led her into the kitchen.

“Anna should have been taken from that house long ago,” she told him. “Complete disarray, garbage everywhere, no edible food in the house. I’m surprised Dolley didn’t say anything or desire her sister to leave.”

Washington shrugged. “It might have seemed normal to Dolley, unfortunately. Was anyone home with Anna?”

“No. The only thing Anna said was that her father had left ‘a few days ago’. To a child of six, that could have been anywhere from yesterday to a month ago.” The social worker rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I would advise you to take Dolley in as a foster child, too, to allow her government benefits for herself and the baby. I know you’re not equipped to take a baby and a six-year-old and we’ll do what we can to find another placement for Anna.”

“I’ll talk to my wife,” Washington said. “We can assess the girls together, too, and determine if it’s beneficial for them to remain together or not.”

“Sounds good.” She set some paperwork on the counter. “Have Martha stop by to sign as soon as she can. These are just for Anna and I’ll have you do Dolley’s after I speak to her.” She handed Washington a pen. “I’d advise you to give Anna a thorough cleaning. That house had to have all sorts of bugs.”

“Noted.” Washington handed her the signed papers.

“Good luck.”

Back in the front room, she said goodbye to Anna and added to Washington. “She didn’t have anything to take with her. Sorry.”

Washington nodded and saw her out. He turned to Laurens. “Get yourself and Alexander some dinner before it gets cold. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem, sir.” Laurens headed to the kitchen.

Washington watched the little girl intent on coloring. “Anna?”

She didn’t respond and he got his aching knees to squat down on the other side of the table.

“I’m George,” he said. “My wife Martha and I are going to look after you. We know your sister Dolley. She’s been staying with us.”

Anna handed him a crayon.

“How about a bath first?” Washington suggested as he noted the dirt caked under her nails and the stained dress. He’d dealt with lice several times and one foster boy had brought bedbugs.

Anna followed him to the downstairs bathroom.

While he waited for the tub to fill and added plenty of bubble bath, he asked her questions: favorite color, did she like vegetables, where did she like to sleep, did she enjoy school.

Her answers were short: pink, no, Dolley’s bed, no.

Washington helped her out of the dirty clothes. By the state of her appearance and what little he knew of the Payne family, he expected to see the girl covered in bruises. But she looked unharmed, just grubby.

While he let Anna play with the bubbles, Washington called Mrs. Madison after he realized he had nothing clean to dress the child in.

“Is everything alright?” Mrs. Madison asked.

“Well, it’s a long story,” Washington said. “But what it comes down to is I need clothes for a little girl. Do you have any to spare?”

“What size?”

Washington checked the faded tag on Anna’s dress. “Five or six. She’s quite small.”

“Not a problem. I’ll send Ambrose over shortly.”

“Thank you.” It was a testament to their friendship with the Madison’s that such a request was met with understanding as the Washington’s did whenever the Madison family needed a babysitter or advise on what to do when a child put a marble up his nose.

One problem solved, Washington turned his attention to scrubbing the child and combing through her hair with a fine-toothed comb for lice. Amazingly, she was clean, which was a huge relief, as he did not have the energy to treat lice that night.

As he expected Ambrose to arrive soon, Washington finished the bath and wrapped Anna warm and snug in a big towel. He timed it just right and Ambrose rang the doorbell a few minutes later.

“Thank you.” Washington took the loaded bag from the teen. “I’ll have Martha call your mom soon.”

“No worries, sir,” Ambrose said.

Washington closed the door and carried Anna back to the bathroom. He got her dressed in clean undergarments and a long nightgown. Also in the bag were two dresses, leggings, t-shirts, a sweater, plenty of underclothes, a pair of shoes, and a teddy bear.

“Are you hungry, Anna?” he asked as he braided her wet hair.

Anna nodded.

In the kitchen, he filled two plates and warmed them in the microwave.

Anna sat quietly at the table and Washington was taken back to countless other similar scenes. It didn’t matter the age or gender of the child they took in, all came to them lost, scared, and confused. The children were taken from a home they thought was normal, handed over to strangers whose first interaction was to clean them and put them into new clothes. His own childhood hadn’t been free of abuse but he’d never been plucked from it and expected to be okay.

Washington set a plate on the table. “Eat up, Anna.” He joined her at the table, relieved that she ate with a decent appetite and made quick work of a chicken leg. She struggled to use silverware, though, and he wondered if it was lack of skill or disability. The kid would have to go through the wringer of doctor’s appointments, he knew.

Laurens came downstairs to put his and Hamilton’s dishes in the sink. “Alexander wants to know what’s going on.”

“I’ll be up in a few minutes,” Washington said. “Did he eat?”

“A piece of chicken, mashed potatoes, and a biscuit,” Laurens said.

“Thank you, John.” Washington checked the time: after nine. The little girl should have been in bed long ago but he didn’t want to stick her in bed right after she’d eaten. He let her color in the family room for another fifteen minutes while he watched TV. Then he settled her in the middle bedroom with the teddy bear from the Madison’s.

“Will you be okay tonight?” Washington asked.

Anna nodded.

“Things will be less scary and crazy tomorrow.” Washington stood. “Goodnight, Anna.”

“Night,” she murmured.

One child down, Washington stopped in Hamilton’s room next and explained the situation. “I don’t know how it’ll all turn out,” he said, “but you come first and if we can’t give you the attention you—”

“Dad,” Hamilton interrupted, “I’ll be okay.”

Washington studied the tired, pale face of his son. He wanted to believe him but he’d missed signs before when there weren’t countless other distractions. “I know.” He squeezed Hamilton’s hands. “But you’re still the most important thing to me and you come first.”

Hamilton nodded. “Thank you.”

Exhausted and ready to crash, Washington called his wife instead of waiting for her call. “We picked up another stray,” he said.

“Who?”

He could hear the confusion in her voice as she went through the mental list of usual strays. “Anna.”

“Oh.” A pause. “I didn’t expect… So soon… Is—”

“I got her cleaned up, fed, and tucked in,” Washington said and yawned. “But, please come home soon. There are too many children and dogs here.”

Mrs. Washington chuckled. “I’ll be home as soon as I can tomorrow. Goodnight, George.”

“Night, dear.”


	31. Chapter 31

Monday morning, Burr found a manila envelope on his desk with his assistant job description inside. After he finished his morning tasks, he read it carefully, half-expecting Theodosia to slip in some inappropriate clause that might explain what he was to her. But the whole thing was professional and outlined what sounded like a boring job but would give him a two-dollar raise. He was by no means attached to his current position and knew he would accept her offer. 

In the afternoon when he hit a lull, Burr headed upstairs to find Theodosia and spotted her leaving her husband’s office.

“Mr. Burr.” She smiled at him. “Thoughts or concerns?”

“Nope,” Burr said. “I’d like to accept.”

“Perfect.” Theodosia grabbed his arm and dragged him to Mr. Prevost’s office.

He looked up at his wife. “What now?”

“Mr. Burr needs to resign,” Theodosia said. “He’s to be my new assistant.”

Mr. Prevost looked at Burr, his face betraying no bewilderment as to who this employee even was. “Fine. Employee number, Burr?”

“1756,” Burr said.

Mr. Prevost typed on his computer. “I’ll need a resignation letter for your file.”

“Oh, just do it as a transfer,” Theodosia said. “It’s within the same company.”

“Fine.” Mr. Prevost rubbed his forehead. “When do you want him to start?”

“I could use his help getting set up.”

“Fine,” Mr. Prevost repeated. “Burr, I’ll need to fill your position before you leave. Your last day can be a week from Friday.”

“Yes, sir,” Burr said with a sideways glance at Theodosia.

“Thanks, Jacques.” Theodosia steered Burr into the hall and closed the door. She glanced at her watch. “Poo, it’s only three. I want to take you to the new office. Are you busy tonight?”

“Nope.”

“I’ll see you at five.”

Burr returned to his desk and tried to keep busy but all he could do was stare at the clock—which he swore was going backward—and check his phone every few minutes to hope for time to pass.

Five o’clock arrived and Theodosia appeared at his desk. He followed her out to her Chevy Malibu and buckled up.

The new law firm was only a few blocks away, an additional block from his apartment.

Theodosia led the way upstairs through the quiet halls still smelling of paint from the remodel of the old building. Her office was at least twice the size of Burr’s apartment. Most of the furniture was still wrapped in plastic and boxes remained on the floor. The windows looked out over a park and small pond, a cherry tree in fading bloom.

“I’m not sure yet where your desk will go,” Theodosia said as she watched him look around. “We’ll find a nice spot.”

“Why are you doing this?” The question slipped out before he knew it.

Theodosia sat on the armrest of the small sofa near the window. “Because you deserve a break, Aaron. You need something that’ll pay more and someone to guide you. This won’t be the law position you probably dreamed of and I won’t tie you down here forever but it’ll get you a start and a career.” 

Burr picked at his lip. “Why me?”

“Because I like you.” She stepped toward him and touched his cheek, her dark skin complimenting his and enveloping him in her flowery perfume. “I’ve been trying to find an assistant for months and no one else wanted to even associate with me. I wasn’t going to give the job to someone who can’t talk to me. You’re honest and sincere.”

“Theo...” How far off the mark she was. “I’m not...”

Her lips brushed against his cheek. “Dinner?”

 _Bedroom._ “Yeah.” He breathed in her perfume and almost closed his eyes.

Dinner conversation flowed around work, a disappointment to Burr. During a respite in the conversation, he asked, “Have you taken any pictures recently?”

Theodosia sipped her wine. “No, but I have this idea and could use your help.”

“Sure.” A grin slipped across his face. 

She explained how her new office still in disarray gave off a vibe she liked and with the right lighting and props she was certain she could create an eerie vintage look.

“Sounds cool,” said Burr who had zero artistic talents.

“Are you free Saturday? I have to figure out when the lighting will be best.”

Burr agreed, wondering when she’d understand that he had all the time in the world for her.

Saturday dawned cloudy and Theodosia fretted getting the shots she wanted but she picked Burr up anyway and they spent some time setting up lights to achieve her aesthetic. She put Burr in charge of setting up props while she got out her pricey camera and attached the lens she wanted. She snapped a few pictures.

Hearing the camera click, Burr glanced over his shoulder and saw it directed at him. “Hey!”

“Sometimes the unplanned pictures turn out best,” Theodosia explained with a grin. “That one’s a keeper.”

Burr rolled his eyes.

“Can you do something for me?”

“Anything.” The word jumped out of his mouth.

“Do you mind if I take some pictures of you?” She glanced away. “I’ve mostly done still life and want to try portraits.”

Burr tugged at the collar of his t-shirt and his heart pounded. “Yeah. Whatever you want.”

“Thanks.” She fiddled with her camera. Clearing her throat, she looked up. “Oh, that looks nice.” She aimed the camera at the flowers Burr had arranged.

Time passed quickly as Theodosia took pictures and directed Burr to move around lights and props. Deciding she had what she wanted from the room, she studied Burr. “What’re you comfortable with?”

He shrugged as that heat crept up his neck again.

“You can say no, but—” She grabbed a wooden stepladder and moved it toward the corner near a bookshelf. “—you on this barefoot and shirtless. Sepia tones, a little bit of shadow. Perfection, I think.”

“Okay.” Goosebumps flooded his arms as he moved toward the corner. He took off his shoes and socks while she set up the camera and checked the lighting with a few test shots. He tossed his shirt on a plastic covered chair and sat on the stepladder. “Want me to suck this in?” He pointed to his flabby gut.

“You’re perfect,” Theodosia said watching him through the camera lens. “Sit however feels natural.”

“Should I be smiling?” he asked and hoped his ears weren’t as red as he imagined. Was this merely artistic or was there a reason she wanted pictures of him? She’s already gotten a decent look at him when she’d taken him shopping.

“No, look natural.” She glanced up at him. “Okay, but not resting-bitch-face natural.” She giggled. “There.” She snapped several photos.

When she stopped to check the pictures she’d taken, Burr said, “I have no idea what I’m doing or what you’re looking for.”

“Oh, I dunno.” She scrolled through the pictures and cocked her head. “Vintage.”

“What does that mean?” He crossed his arms, more self-conscious now than when the camera was on him. 

“Haunted?” Theodosia looked at him. “I like pictures a little creepy but in a way that makes you wonder and instead of frightened.”

“I’m not sure how I can look haunted sitting like this.”

Theodosia thought for a moment. “Stand near the window looking out.” She watched him find a position. “Look like, well, look like you want to jump.”

Not a hard look to achieve at all, Burr thought as he rested his forehead against the glass. He let his thoughts turn dark to his dismal reality of a cold apartment, an ex who attempted suicide, and a married boss he couldn’t get out of his thoughts.

After a few minutes of snapping pictures from different angles, Theodosia said, “You can stop. You’re a little too good at this.”

Burr blinked and struggled to bring himself out of the darkness of his psyche. “May I see?”

Theodosia brought up the pictures on her camera, Burr’s haunted face reflected in the window.

“That’s really good, Theo,” Burr said. “Usually I hate every picture of myself but I actually kind of like this one.”

“You’re a strange duck, Mr. Burr.” She looked at the picture a moment longer and closed the screen. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up.”

Burr dressed and helped her take down the lights and gather up the props. “This was fun, Theo.” He folded a box shut. “Thanks for letting me help.”

Theodosia chuckled. “Thanks for being my model. I may need you to offer your service again.”

His heartbeat sped up and made it difficult to breathe. “My pleasure.” He licked his lips, about to ask if she wanted to go out for dinner when she looked at her watch and sighed.

“I got to get home. We can leave the stuff here.” She picked up her purse and camera bag.

The drive to Burr’s apartment was quiet and Theodosia sighed several times. She put the car in park and looked at him.

“What?” Burr asked as heat burned his cheeks. Maybe she’d give him an answer. But what did he expect? She _was_ married; she _was_ ten years older. He was a prop to her.

“I’d rather take you out to dinner than go home,” she said. 

“Then let’s go,” he replied. He tucked his fingers into a fist to keep from touching her.

“Responsibilities, unfortunately.” Her perfect nails stroked up his arm. “I’ll see you Monday.”

Burr didn’t move. _Theodosia_ burned on his tongue. He needed to spill his feelings but what would happen if he did? No assistant job, probably. Be fired from his current job. Be alone.

“Aaron, I have to go,” Theodosia said.

Burr swallowed. “Sorry.” He opened the door. “See you Monday.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Todd

A day later, Dolley returned to Mount Vernon with the baby, named Todd. Anna was ecstatic to meet her nephew. Both girls were officially in the care of the Washington’s. Mount Vernon had never had such a diverse group under its roof at one time before.

Dogs barked, the baby cried, Anna’s childish voice yelled. It made Washington laugh and hold his wife close, thankful they continued to have this chance to help children in need.

“I want to hold the baby.” Hamilton managed to get his voice over the din.

Dolley handed over her son and watched Hamilton coo over the red-faced and still-misshapen-skulled baby. She’d raised Anna from a baby and had the same random assortment of parenting skills as Hamilton did, enough to have an understanding of babies and where to begin but a lot of misinformation that would need to be corrected.

“You can be the dad,” Dolley told him.

“Cool,” Hamilton said.

The Washington’s exchanged a worried glance. If Hamilton had still been a teenager, they wouldn’t have allowed the situation at all. They were certain a romantic relationship wouldn’t develop between the two but they didn’t want Hamilton feeling responsible for Dolley and Todd and hindering his own future.

Washington cleared his throat. “Baby Todd will have plenty of good parental figures. Alexander, give Todd back to Dolley and let Mom get them settled.”

“I help!” Anna shouted and ran upstairs. Potomac ran after the child while Noodle and Potato decided to start barking. France and Mugsley were less thrilled about all the new additions and kept themselves safe from grabby hands in the master bedroom.

Hamilton grinned at his dad. “I like having a big family.”

Washington wrapped his arms around him. “Good. But don’t stress yourself out over helping with the baby. Dolley needs to do most of the work herself and Mom and I will assist her.”

“I can take care of Anna.”

“You take care of yourself.” Washington kissed him. “That’s more than one person can handle as it is.”

Hamilton grinned. “I know.”

***

It didn’t take long for the family to adapt to the dynamic. Mrs. Washington still kept to her routine of getting up at six and having the dogs fed by seven. After the dogs were taken care of, she returned upstairs and woke Anna and helped her dress. If she didn’t hear any crying from Dolley’s room, Mrs. Washington made Anna breakfast and helped her get settled with toys—generously given to them by the Madison’s—or art supplies.

Washington and Hamilton would usually have themselves up by then. Since no one had work or school to attend to, the mornings went by at a leisurely pace. In a few weeks, Washington would occupy himself with tutoring gigs and summer lectures but a chance to stay home and relax was more than welcome.

If Dolley hadn’t gotten herself up by then, Mrs. Washington would help her get going and tend to Todd. But for those first few weeks, more often than not, Mrs. Washington would hear Todd crying after she woke Anna.

“Dolley,” Mrs. Washington opened the bedroom door. “You need to check on Todd.”

“He’s fine,” Dolley said with the blankets over her head.

With Anna in tow, Mrs. Washington checked on the fussing baby. “When was his last feeding?”

Dolley yawned. “I dunno.”

“He needs to be fed every few hours,” Mrs. Washington reminded her. “You can nurse him in bed.”

Grumbling, Dolley tossed back the blankets and dragged herself out of bed to retrieve her son from his nearby crib.

Once assured Dolley had Todd latched on comfortably, Mrs. Washington steered Anna out. As was often the case, Hamilton stood in the hallway outside the bedroom still in his boxers and t-shirt, hair in a tangled mess.

“How’s the baby?” he asked.

“Having breakfast,” Mrs. Washington said. “Go get dressed, Alexander.”

“I wan’ breakfast, too,” Anna said and tugged at her foster mom’s dress. “Toast.”

“I know, dear.” Mrs. Washington smiled at her. “Let’s make that happen.” She kissed Hamilton’s cheek as she passed by him.

Hamilton ignored her request and poked his head in Dolley’s room. “Good morning.”

Dolley grinned. “Keep me company, please. This is so boring.”

Closing the door behind him, Hamilton got in bed with her. “How is Todd today?”

“Demanding,” said Dolley. “I hate nursing. I should just give him formula.”

“But then you have to deal with making up bottles and getting the formula the right temperature and cleaning everything really good.” He’d done that for several foster families. “It’s a pain in the butt.”

“This is a pain in my boobs,” Dolley retorted. 

“Sorry.” Hamilton stroked Todd’s back. “My opinion doesn’t matter anyway.”

“I don’t mind your input,” Dolley said with a glance at him. “You’re good with babies.” She rubbed the downy fuzz on Todd’s head. “I have to switch sides. Don’t look.”

Hamilton looked away as she tugged her left arm out of the sleeve of her pajama top and slipped the right one back in. Todd resumed suckling. She was lucky to have little trouble with breastfeeding other than annoyance at the process.

“Do you have any plans for today?” Hamilton asked once he got the okay. “Maybe we could take Todd out in the stroller? If Mom says we can.”

“Maybe,” Dolley said. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

“Fresh air is good for you.”

“You can take Todd.” Dolley smiled at him.

A semi-worried smile touched Hamilton’s lips in return. He knew they all wanted Dolley to bond with her baby and not see him as such an inconvenience. He also knew his parents didn’t want to have the conversation with her about, maybe, putting Todd up for adoption instead.

“I think he’s done,” Dolley said. She adjusted her shirt and handed the baby to Hamilton.

Hamilton patted Todd’s back and let the baby lay on his chest. “His head isn’t misshapen anymore.”

“Thank God.” Dolley burrowed under her blankets.

“He’s a cute baby.” Hamilton let Todd grip one of his fingers with a tiny hand.

“Skin on skin is supposed to be best for bonding,” Dolley said. She lay close to Hamilton, head next to his shoulder.

“Yeah, but he’s your baby to bond with.” Hamilton studied the tiny human, a soft smile on his face.

“He’s going to need a dad in his life,” Dolley insisted.

He had to tell her no, Hamilton knew. Dolley had grown up in a chaotic, abusive household and she knew how to manipulate. But even though Hamilton knew her tricks having done them himself, he couldn’t disregard her request.

Dolley plucked the baby off him long enough for Hamilton to pull off his t-shirt. 

Todd’s warm, little body rested snug against his skin and Hamilton melted with love for the baby.

The moment ended when the door opened and Washington snapped at him. “Alexander, come here.”

With a sigh, Hamilton returned the baby to Dolley and grabbed his shirt off the floor. 

Washington closed the door behind them and marched Hamilton to his room. “Not appropriate, Alexander. She’s seventeen.”

“Dad, I’m not—” Hamilton grimaced as he finally grasped what the scene had looked like to anyone else. “I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. “I didn’t realize.”

Washington rested his hands on his son’s bare shoulders. “You need to be careful. I know you’re smart enough not to cross a line but Dolley is going to use that baby to sucker you in, as she already has. You can help take care of Todd, but not behind closed doors, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Hamilton tucked his head under Washington’s chin. “I feel unclean now.”

Washington patted his back with a chuckle. “You’re forgiven. Just watch yourself. We want to help Dolley as long as we can and not have to turn her away because you and her—”

“Dad, stop,” Hamilton mumbled, face red. “I’m twenty-two, I can control myself.”

“Hmmm.”

“Dad!” Hamilton pulled away. “You’re making this way weirder.”

“To help you understand.” Washington tapped his nose. “Get dressed. Anna wants to play outside if you don’t mind watching her.”

“No problem.”

Downstairs in the kitchen, Mrs. Washington tried to clean up from breakfast as the energetic six-year-old chased Potomac around.

“Anna!” Washington caught her and swung her in the air. “Alexander is going to play outside with you. Go find your shoes.”

“Okay!”

When he came downstairs, Anna was quick to pounce on him and drag him to the back door.

“Let me grab something to eat,” Hamilton insisted first and got a poptart from the top shelf in the pantry.

“Not healthy,” Anna told him.

“Do you want to wait while I make something healthy then?” Hamilton asked with a grin.

“No!” She grabbed his hand. 

While Hamilton ate, Anna ran around the yard and chased everything she could find: a butterfly, a leaf, pollen, a bumblebee. Potato and Noodle watched her safely under a bush while Potomac joined her games on occasion. The oldest two of the pack stayed inside where it was cool and quiet.

Anna found a ball and threw it at Hamilton. “Catch!”

The ball hit his chest. “Good throw!” He tossed it back to her.

They both spent more time retrieving the ball than catching it and soon wore themselves out from chasing down their wayward throws. 

Hamilton sat on the grass and coaxed Potato and Noodle to him.

“I have an idea!” Anna exclaimed and ran into the house.

She returned before Hamilton worried she had created too much of a disaster and handed him a few doll-sized hats. “For the dogs.”

Hamilton grinned. “They’ll be so cute.” He tied a yellow baby bonnet on Potato’s tiny head.

Potato’s bulging eyes glared at him in betrayal. 

Anna stuck a party hat on Noodle and Hamilton helped her adjust the elastic strap under the Dachshund’s chin. A doggy smile lit up Noodle’s face and she jumped around.

Potato remained frozen but when Hamilton pulled out his phone to take a picture, she decided she’d withstood the humiliation enough and would not have her dignity slandered with a photo. She got the bonnet off and ran under the bush.

“Silly Tato!” Anna said. “Noodle, sit!”

Noodle sat and Hamilton took her picture. 

“Take my picture with Noodle!” Anna tugged at Hamilton’s arm. “P’ease!”

“Sit down,” Hamilton told her and took the picture.

“Your turn!” Anna reached for his phone.

“Nah, I don’t take good pics,” Hamilton said and pocketed his cell.

The sliding door closed and Laurens called out, “But what if I want a pic, Hammy?”

“I suppose for you, John,” Hamilton called out as his eyes sparkled.

“Hammy.” Anna giggled. “Can I call you that, too? Your name is too long.”

“Hmm.” Hamilton tapped his lips in mock thought. “What do you think, John? You’re the only person who calls me that. Should we let Anna in the club?”

Laurens joined them and wrapped his arms around Hamilton. “I think we can. She’s a good girl.”

“Yay!” Anna spun around in circles until she fell down.

Hamilton pulled Laurens’ arms tighter around him. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“I wasn’t sure if I had to work or not,” Laurens said. “The restaurant was short-staffed yesterday and I worked, like, twelve hours.”

“Yuck.”

“Yup.” Laurens tickled Hamilton’s neck.

Hamilton squirmed out of his arms. “Cute shirt, Jack.”

Laurens grinned. “Turtles.” He smoothed out the black tank top with a turtle screenprint.

“Lemme see!” Anna shouted and tugged at Laurens’ arm. “Turtles!” Her attention sidetracked and she pointed at his shoulders. “You have lots of spots.”

“I think he’s a cheetah,” Hamilton teased. 

Anna giggled and spun again.

“Only if I can be your cheetah,” Laurens said softly and bit his lip.

Hamilton nodded and slipped his hand into Laurens’. “Talk about it tonight?”

“Yeah.” Laurens squeezed his hand.

 

The boys kept Anna entertained throughout the morning and with Mrs. Washington’s permission, took Todd out in his stroller in the afternoon. Dolley used that time to take a bath.

They walked in silence with Hamilton pushing the stroller. Todd waved his hands around and babbled. 

“I don’t think I’m ready,” Hamilton said after the silence grew uncomfortable. “I want to be with you, Jack, but I’m not emotionally ready and I need to be certain my feelings for you aren’t a hero-worship thing because you’ve been taking care of me and you saved me.”

“I understand.” A faint smile touched Laurens’ face as he watched Todd grab at his tiny toes. “I’d rather wait than have you say yes and regret it.”

Hamilton’s lips pursed together. “Like I did with Aaron?”

Laurens shrugged. “I know you and I have our baggage, too, and I won’t put any pressure on you. I’m just glad to know I haven’t been reading you wrong. Take all the time you need, Hammy.” He rested his hand over Hamilton’s on the stroller handle. “I promised you I wasn’t going anywhere. I mean that no matter your answer.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Hamilton leaned into him.

Todd chose that moment to wail and his chubby cheeks turned bright red.

“Ah, Toddle, don’t cry,” Hamilton said and unbuckled him. He bounced the screaming baby in his arms.

“Why is he crying?” Laurens asked, wincing at the ear-splitting sound.

“Might be a wet diaper.” He set Todd back in the stroller and unsnapped his onesie. “Yup, let’s get him home.” He carried the baby and let Laurens push the stroller. 

Mrs. Washington came out of the kitchen when they returned home with the screaming baby. “Is everything okay?”

“Needs a diaper change,” Hamilton said. “I got it handled.” He took Todd upstairs with a curious Laurens following. 

In Dolley’s room, Hamilton laid the baby on the changing table and made quick work getting him dry and comfortable.

Todd’s wails petered out and he smiled.

Laurens watched in awe and teased, “It’s a good thing I’m not ovulating right now. You’re going to be an amazing dad when you have your own kids, Hammy.”

“Thanks. Here.” Hamilton handed him the baby while he discarded the diaper. 

Laurens stared at the baby in his arms. It had been a long time since his siblings had been that small and he held Todd in an awkward football hold.

The on-suite bathroom door opened and Dolley came out in a bathrobe. “I thought I heard crying. Is the walk done already?”

“Yeah, wet diaper,” Hamilton said. “We’ll watch him a little longer.”

“Thanks.” Dolley closed the door.

They left the room and Laurens asked, “Still not bonding with her baby?”

“Not really,” Hamilton said and cooed at the baby still in Laurens’ grasp. “I think it was easier for her to love the baby before it came out and she no longer has any time to herself. It’s a big adjustment for any parent let alone a seventeen-year-old. I think she’ll adapt. Todd’s a sweet baby.”

“Yes, but please take him,” Laurens said. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Making _me_ glad I’m not ovulating.” Hamilton took the baby and let his hands brush against Laurens’ arms more than needed. 

Anna met them downstairs and wrapped herself around Laurens’ leg. “Will you guys play with me?”

Hamilton glanced at Laurens and could tell he was done with playing house for the day. “Maybe later, Anna. John and I want to hang out together for a bit.”

“No!”

“Anna,” Mrs. Washington called to her from down the hall. “I thought you were helping me sort buttons?”

“I guess.” Anna dragged herself to the sewing room. 

“I’ll give the baby to Dad,” Hamilton said. “We can watch a movie in my room or something.”

Laurens agreed. “I’ll meet you in your room.” He headed back upstairs and was almost in Hamilton’s room when he heard his name called. 

“John or Jack?” Dolley asked him. She’d put on a sundress with her hair in a high ponytail.

“John,” he said.

“So Jack is just Alexander’s pet name for you?”

Laurens shrugged.

“Do you even like being called Jack?” She rested a hand on her hip.

Laurens frowned. “From Alexander.”

“Likes he’s your Hammy?”

The frown deepened. “Why does it matter if we have special nicknames for each other? We’ve been close friends for years.”

“Just friends, right?” Dolley cocked her head. “You know he’s promised to help me take care of Todd.”

“I’m aware he’s helping a lot,” Laurens said. “Don’t take advantage of him. He’s still fragile.”

Dolley snorted. “Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“Excuse you?” 

“Trying to get him to be your boyfriend while he’s ‘still fragile’.”

Laurens’ shoulders drooped as he realized, once again, he’d put Hamilton into a position of competing sides.

By the time Hamilton went into his room, Laurens was quiet and subdued. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m a jerk,” Laurens mumbled.

Hamilton wanted to tease him, agree that he indeed was but knew that wasn’t the time. “What happened?”

“Dolley.” Laurens looked up. “I’m putting you in the middle again, Alexander. I swore I would never hurt you again or be a shit to you like that and then I went and asked you for an answer when you’re trying to help Dolley, too. I don’t need an answer, I promise. You do what you need to do.”

Hamilton sat next to him on the bed. “I don’t know what Dolley made you believe but you’re not putting me in the middle of anything, I promise.”

Laurens tucked Hamilton’s hair back. “Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison goes to work

“Oh, boy, here comes junior,” griped Nathanael Greene, Jefferson’s supervision.

It was Madison first day at his dad’s partner’s law firm. He stood near the front door, lunch bag clutched in his hand and a look of terror in his eyes.

 “I can help him get settled in,” Jefferson suggested. He had started work a week ago and liked everything except every single co-worker.

“Fine. You have fifteen minutes.” Greene glanced at his watch.

Jefferson hurried over to Madison. “Hey,” he said softly.

Madison’s face relaxed into a smile. “Hey.”

“I’ll help you get clocked in,” Jefferson said, “and figure out where you’re supposed to work.”

“Thanks.”

Jefferson reached out to take Madison’s lunch bag so used to carrying his things. He stopped his hand halfway there remembering that they couldn’t act too familiar. He wasn’t certain the ploy could last but he’d do as Mr. Madison asked. “Um, you can clock in over here.” Jefferson showed him the clock-in area and how to fill out his time card.

“My supervisor is kind of a dick,” he continued in a low voice while Madison wrote down his name. “But I’ll try to get away as often as I can to check on you.”

“Don’t be obvious,” Madison whispered. He slipped his card under the clock to punch in.

“Ah, James,” a loud voice interrupted. “Let’s get you set up. Jefferson, run along, I’ll take care of junior.”

Jefferson gritted his teeth as another employee swept Madison away. Jefferson retreated to his desk and glanced up often to see where Madison was. Eventually, he spotted him at the front desk being instructed on the phones. Jefferson’s heart broke as he watched the panic fill Madison’s eyes over talking on the phone. His eyes widened and he blinked rapidly.

Jefferson stood and smacked into his desk knocking half the contents to the floor. All eyes in the room, including the employee instructing Madison, stared at him, which gave Madison enough time to wipe away the gathering tears and compose himself.

“Watch what you’re doing, Jefferson,” Greene admonished.

“Sorry, sir,” Jefferson said. He picked up the scattered papers, folders, and pens. He glanced at Madison. The teary look was at least gone although he still looked petrified.

Jefferson was glued to his desk even during lunch. He couldn’t risk texting Madison and someone seeing their messages. He kept his head down as often as possible to avoid staring at his boyfriend.

Mr. Madison scheduled his son for only a few hours a day and he left before Jefferson. Jefferson begged time to move faster and stood ready to leave as soon as the clock struck five. He raced to his truck, threw his stuff in the passenger seat and sped out of the parking lot.

He stopped at the closest grocery store between work and Montpelier. He made quick work of grabbing wine and chocolate cake.

He pulled up to Montpelier just as Madison texted him asking if he was still at work. Jefferson texted back, _come downstairs._

Madison’s face broke into a gentle smile as he leaned on the stair railing and saw Jefferson standing at the bottom, goodies in hand.

Madison met him in the middle of the stairs and took one bottle of wine. Standing two steps higher than Jefferson, he barely had to stand on his toes to kiss him.

“Was it bad?” Jefferson asked. “Are they making you answer phones?”

Madison nodded. He closed the door to his bedroom and unscrewed the top of the wine bottle.

“Easy,” Jefferson said as Madison took a drink. “Can you talk to your dad? I’m sure that’s not what he had in mind for you.”

“Maybe,” Madison said. He took another drink. “Cake?”

Jefferson handed him the chocolate cake and a plastic knife.

Madison made quick work of opening the package and cut two large slices.

“It’ll get better,” Jefferson said. He kissed the top of Madison’s head.

Madison moved toward his bed and got comfortable. Jefferson joined him and they watched TV while eating and drinking.

Finished, Madison trailed a hand down his boyfriend’s chest. “I need something to get me through tomorrow.”

Jefferson smoothed Madison’s long hair back and secured it with the hair tie he wore around his wrist. “Okay.”

Quick hands untucked Jefferson’s shirt and unzipped his pants.

“Easy.” Jefferson watched the bright blue eyes on him. “Go ahead, strip me down. No guarantees but I’ll do my best.”

Madison quickly unbuttoned Jefferson’s shirt and pushed it off. Jefferson kicked his feet out of his pants and lay back as Madison climbed on him.

The wine worked Madison up and he kissed his boyfriend all over.

“Stop, Jem,” Jefferson said. “Do you want sex or—”

“Yes,” Madison interrupted and scooted across the bed to grab the lube and a condom.

“So, um, I googled some stuff,” Jefferson stammered and his boyfriend’s eyes snapped to his face. “I’m not sure how to explain it but if you trust me—”

“Yes,” Madison interjected. “I’m good with whatever you’re comfortable with.”

The wine helped and Jefferson was buzzed enough to have a cursory interest in pleasing his boyfriend. On a few boring days at work, he’d googled—on his phone on private mode, obviously—a few positions that would work with their height difference. It hadn’t been fun searching—and he couldn’t get some unfortunate images out of his head—but Madison shouting his name in the middle of the act made it worth it.

They fell against the pillow panting, their bodies sweaty.

“Dammit, Thomas,” Madison said. “The fuck?”

“Research.” Jefferson reached for the wine bottle and found only a swallow left for each of them. “Worth it?”

“Yes.” Madison gulped the last of the wine. He climbed on top of Jefferson and kissed him.

Jefferson nudged him off. “That’s not enough, Jemmy.” He bopped his boyfriend on the nose.

***

His alarm screamed at six in the morning. Jefferson jerked and almost hit Madison as he sought out his phone to shut off the noise.

Madison cussed as he curled into a ball.

Jefferson rubbed his dry eyes and tried to place where he was. They were still naked and he tried to remember if they had gone a second round.

He moved his legs to the side of the bed and struggled for motivation to get up. He stumbled his first step and realized how hungover he was. The two bottles of wine on the nightstand reminded him of why. He had forgotten they’d opened a second bottle. His stomach was more than aware of the fact.

He forced himself to vomit in the bathroom. At least that settled the worst of the icky sensation. He dressed in the clothes he kept stashed in Madison’s room and stared at his ashen pallor face in the mirror. He brushed his teeth and returned to the bedroom.

“What time did you set your alarm for?” he asked Madison.

“Seven,” Madison mumbled. “I work at nine.”

“Good luck with that.” Jefferson kissed him and tucked the blankets around his naked body.

Downstairs, Jefferson made himself toast and prayed his stomach would keep it down. Mrs. Madison greeted him with a smile. “Was Jemmy’s first day that bad?” she asked.

“He had to answer phones,” Jefferson replied. He chewed slowly on his toast. “I should talk to Jim about that. It’s too much stress for Jem.”

“Perhaps you give it a day,” Mrs. Madison suggested. “Jem needs to step outside his comfort zone. It wouldn’t hurt to ask him to spend the night at your apartment either. He’s had our permission for months.”

“I got tired of asking him,” Jefferson admitted.

She nodded. “I’ll talk to him. He does need to work on some independence.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jefferson took another bite.

 

Jefferson stumbled to his desk after clocking in.

“Late night?” asked one of his co-workers, a young woman who he thought had tried to flirt with him a few times.

“Yeah, kind of,” Jefferson admitted.

“Where do you hang out?” she asked. “Any particular bar?”

“No.” Jefferson logged into his computer and began to print his daily reports.

“You could hang out with me and my friends,” she continued. “You don’t have a girlfriend, right?”

“No.” Jefferson licked his lips trying to find a way out. “I’m not really looking.”

“But you went out last night.”

“With some guy friends,” Jefferson lied.

“I see.” The girl studied him as if she could find the truth in his face. “Let me know when you change your mind.”

“Not going to,” Jefferson muttered under his breath. He finished clicking on everything to print and headed over to the printer to grab his papers.

His supervisor stood nearby chatting with a peer. “You look rough, Jefferson,” he commented. “Hope you’re ready to work today.”

“Yes, sir,” Jefferson said while his stomach gurgled and threated to spew toast across the room.

Greene turned back to his colleague. “Yeah, junior is on the floor,” he said. “Favor for the boss man. Kid about shit himself yesterday.”

Jefferson held his tongue and returned to his desk.

By nine, Jefferson had his morning paperwork finished. He glanced often at the front door until he saw Madison enter.

Madison clocked in and went to the front desk. The woman there told him to sit and handed him a binder. Madison’s face paled at the number of calls that he would need to return and tears gathered in his eyes.

Jefferson waited for a chance and within the hour, he slipped away to the front desk. “Give me a list,” he murmured, “I’ll make some of the calls.”

Madison nodded. He opened the binder, took out two pages, and handed them to Jefferson.

Jefferson returned to his desk and spent the next hour making callbacks for appointments and praying he wasn’t overbooking anyone. At least Madison appeared more relaxed when Jefferson grabbed another chance to stop by the front desk.

“Hanging in there?” Jefferson whispered.

Madison nodded.

He slipped a package of skittles out of his pocket and tossed it on the desk. He risked a wink and returned to his desk.

His office partner pounced back on him. “Do you know junior?”

“Who?” Jefferson questioned as he took his seat.

“James Madison.” She indicated to Madison barely visible behind the front desk.

“Oh, yeah,” Jefferson admitted. “My mom lives near his parents.”

“How old is he? He looks about sixteen.”

“He’s twenty-one.” Jefferson attempted to look busy in hopes of stopping the conversation.

“For real? Dang. He’s so petite. Poor thing’s never going to find a girlfriend.”

Jefferson bit into his lip until it went numb.

He struggled through the afternoon and it only got worse when he saw an employee berate Madison over some stupid mistake.

Jefferson quickly left his desk after the employee walked away. He gave Madison what he hoped was a normal, non-personal smile, and whispered, “Meet me in the bathroom.” He walked away.

Thirty seconds behind him, Madison joined him in the men’s room. Jefferson nudged him into the handicap stall and locked it. He lifted Madison in his arms and held him tight. “It’s okay. You’re doing amazing.”

Madison snuffled into his neck and his body shuddered.

Jefferson stroked his hair until Madison calmed down. “You only have another half hour to go,” he soothed. “And tomorrow’s your Friday already.” He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and dried Madison’s cheeks. He flushed the toilet and Madison headed back to his desk first. Jefferson made a detour to the break room and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

The next day, Jefferson spent the morning half-listening to his co-worker gabbing on about her love life and the “stupid men” she dated. If she considered that flirting or if she was even talking to him, Jefferson had no idea. His eyes flitted often to Madison and his heart broke every time Madison’s squeaky, anxious voice answered the phone.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr is dumb and Angelica is too good to him.

The last week at his job, Burr spent training his replacement and attempted to remember how he was supposed to do his tasks and not how he ended up doing them. 

After work, he rode with Theodosia to her new firm and helped set up her office. His own office would be next door and a new door had been installed between the two rooms for easy access. 

As they worked, Burr sidled over to the desk and picked up Theodosia’s camera.

She looked up at the clicking. “Careful with that, Mr. Burr.”

“Show me how to use it,” Burr said.

She joined him. “Point and shoot.”

“Oh, come on,” Burr groaned. “I know there’s more to it than that.” He pointed the camera at her and managed a shot before she covered the lens with her hand.

“I prefer being behind the camera.” Theodosia took it from him.

“Why?” Burr questioned. “You’re way more attractive than I am. You should be in front of the camera.”

“No thank you.” She held up the camera. “Smile.”

This time Burr covered the lens. “I have a suggestion.” He swallowed and wondered if he really could voice his idea. 

“I’m intrigued,” Theodosia said and cocked her head.

Burr indicated to the mahogany antique loveseat with cream embroidered cushions. “That’s your aesthetic, right?” He bit his lip, growing sweaty.

“Yes.”

He stepped away from her and held up his hands framing the seat. “Sepia tones, maybe a splash of color—red or blue.

“I like it, keep going,” Theodosia encouraged. “The subject?”

“Me.” Burr’s ears burned and he knew the next word would make him want to faint. “Nude.”

Theodosia stared at her camera. “I couldn’t, Mr. Burr.”

He had to defend his idea and stammered, “Not the right look? It would be vintage flair. Theo—”

“Mr. Burr—”

“My name’s Aaron.”

Theodosia met his eyes. “Mr. Burr, I’m aware of your attraction to me and it’s very flattering and I admit I may have taken leave of my senses and encouraged it. But...” She faltered to have those dark hazel eyes boring into her.

“No, go on, Theo. Wreck my world,” Burr said in a dangerous whisper.

“You’re my assistant and we need to be professional,” Theodosia said calmly. “I enjoy spending time with you and I want that to continue.”

The urge to yell and hurt her with words faded and Burr nodded. “I understand, mostly.”

“I know you’re hurting—”

“Theo.” Burr held up a hand. “Understand my feelings for you aren’t going to change, but I’ll behave myself. It’ll be fine.”

“Thank you, Mr. Burr.” She returned her gaze to her camera. “I think we should call it a night. Would you like a ride?”

“I could use the exercise,” Burr said. He waited as she put away her camera and grabbed her purse. They walked out together and parted ways outside. 

“See you tomorrow, Mr.—Aaron.”

A smile tugged at Burr’s lips and he was glad his back was toward her. “See you tomorrow, Theo.”

But as he walked home, the dark cloud returned to his mind and he berated himself his constant stupidity. Theodosia was married and ten years older—maybe not a huge difference later on but it was at their current ages. But his foolish mind was certain she had an attraction to him, too. It was the only thing that made sense to him.

The apartment he tried so hard to keep warm in the winter now wouldn’t stay cool. His bad mood accelerated as he walked into that hot, stuffy, stale room. He promptly turned around and headed back aside. He wandered aimlessly for over an hour and ended up in Angelica’s neighborhood.

He sent her a text as he sat outside and stared at the gray light-polluted sky.

Angelica didn’t reply but instead opened the front door. “What’s wrong, Aaron?”

Burr got to his feet. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

She ushered him inside and hugged him. “You never have, hon, but we’ll figure it out.” She led the way to her apartment and locked the door behind them.

Her roommate sat in the small main room texting on her phone. She glanced up and smirked. “Finally, bringing home a boy, Angelica. Good for you.”

“Grow up,” Angelica said with an eye roll. She turned to Burr. “Ice cream?”

“Please,” Burr said.

With a carton of ice cream and two spoons, Angelica led Burr to her room and closed the door. 

“Spill,” Angelica said. “What’s got you down?”

“Theodosia,” Burr said. He dug his spoon into the ice cream.

“Your boss?” Angelica clanked her spoon against his to quit hogging the carton.

Burr sucked on his spoon. “Mmmhmm.”

“You have got to learn to like people with less baggage and are available, hon.”

His face settled into a grimace, in part from of the truth and half because of a brain freeze. “I can’t help it. I like a challenge.”

“She’s not a challenge but a bad idea, Aaron.” Angelica watched him. “She’s your boss.”

“Not for a few more days.” He smirked and deserved the pillow thrown at his face.

“Then she’s your boss’ wife, dumbass,” Angelica said not mincing her words. “You need to be professional around her. You have a good opportunity as her assistant. Do not—and heed these words, Aaron—do not blow it.”

Burr stuffed ice cream in his mouth. “I hear you and I know you’re right.”

“But you’re not going to listen, are you?” Angelica raised an eyebrow.

“Probably not.”

Angelica sighed. “You’re a hopeless case, Aaron Burr, but I’m going to ask you this unrelated request anyway.”

Burr snatched the carton of ice cream from her. “Go for it.”

“I know your apartment is tiny but I need to get out of this place. My roommate brings different guys home every night and I can’t get any sleep.”

“Sure,” Burr said. “We might need to get bunk beds, though.”

“That’s fine. Thank you.” She grabbed the ice cream. 

“It’s stuffy and hot,” he warned. “No AC.”

“We’ll get a window unit,” Angelica said. “I’ll help pay the electric bill and whatever you want to charge me for rent.”

Burr fought his spoon into the ice cream. “Sounds good. That’ll help me a lot.”

“I thought so.” Angelica smiled. “Maybe I can help you get your life on track, too.”

“Don’t overtax yourself, Angelica,” Burr teased. “Besides, it’ll get costly buying enough ice cream.”

“True.” She settled back on her pillow. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

Burr looked up at her. “May I? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Angelica snorted. “I wouldn’t even sit on that thing after seeing what my roommate has done. You’re welcome in here.”

“Thanks.” Burr shoved in a spoonful of ice cream and let it melt in his mouth. He swallowed. “You’re like my only friend.”

“No pity party.” Angelica tugged his sleeve until he relented and moved nearer to her. She cuddled him close. “If you apologize to Alexander, you’d probably get your friends back.”

Burr shook his head. “They’re not my friends if they are only on Alex’s side. He has his own life now and John. I’m not going to get roped back into that.”

Her brow furrowed. “Are he and John together?”

“I’d assume,” Burr said. “John told me he stays there on the weekend.”

“Thomas hasn’t mentioned it.”

Burr snorted. “Thomas wouldn’t have known he and James were dating if he hadn’t been the one to initiate it.” He clenched his jaw tight as a wave of sadness hit his gut.

Angelica stroked his cheek. “Maybe talk to them. I’m sure they miss you, too.”

“I dunno.” Burr moved from her arms. “I’m ready for bed. Bathroom?”

“Right outside the door.”

While he was in the bathroom, Angelica changed and found a spare pillow.

Burr returned with a grimacing face. “There’s a strange dude on your couch.”

A sigh escaped Angelica’s lips. “Don’t expect to get much sleep.” She left to use the bathroom and wash up.

Alone, Burr glanced around the room and decided it suited Angelica well. The furniture was real wood, sturdy and long-lasting. The bedspread was a blue and green striped and comfortable. There weren’t many frills in the room, everything practical and in its place. He undressed and folded his clothes neatly and set them on top of the dresser.

Angelica returned and locked the bedroom door. She held up the baseball bat she kept in the nearby corner. “In case things get crazy.”

“I can see why you want out of here.” Burr rubbed at his short hair.

“I also have pepper spray.” She opened the drawer on her nightstand.

He licked his lips. “Great. I’m not terrified at all.”

“I’ll protect you.” Angelica patted his head.

They got in bed and Angelica turned off the light. An upright fan offered some noise to block the moans and giggles of the roommate and her guest. But even with the disturbing sounds, Burr was quick to fall asleep in the comfy bed in the cool room.

A crash woke them sometime in the early morning.

Angelica grabbed the pepper spray before she turned on the light.

Shouts followed the crash, then curses and screams.

“Does this… happen a lot?” Burr asked through a yawn.

“Yup.” Angelica set down the pepper spray. “I stay out of it.”

“Smart.” He lay back down.

Angelica did likewise and mumbled an apology as she kicked him.

“We could probably fit this bed in my apartment,” Burr said. “If it’s not weird to share for more than a night.”

“I’ll think about it.” Angelica yawned.

Quiet returned to the apartment and they fell back asleep.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dolley makes things uncomfortable.

Laurens remained a frequent guest at Mount Vernon and stopped by several times a week for dinner and often spent Saturday with Hamilton, although he didn’t spend the night since he worked Sunday.

“My aunt has a new boyfriend,” Laurens explained during a weekday dinner. “He’s nice but he always takes my aunt out for dinner and I don’t want to cook for myself.”

“We enjoy having you over,” Washington said.

“Speak for yourself,” Hamilton said with a smirk.

Laurens kicked him under the table.

“Johnny,” Anna tapped his arm. “Have my carrots.” She picked the sliced carrots up with her fingers.

“No, Anna,” Mrs. Washington said. “Those are for you to eat.”

Anna stuck out her bottom lip.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Laurens said and patted her head.

From his bassinet in the family room, Todd let out a howl.

“Damnit,” Dolley complained and tossed down her fork. “Every time he does that I start leaking.” She pressed a hand against her breasts.

“It’s a natural response,” Mrs. Washington soothed. “I’ll save your plate. Go ahead and feed him.”

Dolley shoved back her chair and stood. She returned with the baby and took her seat. “I’m hungry, too,” she said and resumed eating.

Todd fussed and made it impossible to have a conversation.

“Dolley, he needs to eat,” Washington said. “You can finish your dinner in a few minutes.”

In response, Dolley untied the halter strap on her sundress and tugged the bodice down her bare chest.

Washington was first to respond and stood. “Boys, out.” He dragged Hamilton out of his chair and pushed the boys out of the kitchen.

“Dolley, have some modesty,” Mrs. Washington chided.

“Breastfeeding is natural,” Dolley said and got Todd to latch on and suckle. “He can eat at the table with us.”

“There’s still a time and place,” Washington said. “You’re a young girl.”

“I’ve had sex, sir,” she said. “It’s not like I’m innocent.”

Washington looked at his wife who was at a loss as well. Both were proponents of breastfeeding and women having the right to choose to feed their babies where they needed but they also wanted to protect Dolley and encourage her to respect herself.

“Plus I don’t know why you’re worried about the boys,” Dolley continued. “John’s gay, isn’t he? Alexander has clearly been around babies and women who have cared for them. I’m sure he’s seen a boob.”

“That’s still not the point,” Washington said.

“Dear,” Mrs. Washington touched her husband’s hand. “Why don’t you take Anna out for a walk?”

They both glanced at the child feeding her carrots to the dogs.

Anna looked up. “I didn’t do it.”

“Come along, Anna.” Washington helped her out of booster seat—another gift from the Madison’s.

Once they left, Mrs. Washington took a seat next to Dolley and stroked Todd’s head. “I’ll admit George and I are conservative,” she said. “Dropping your top at the dinner table is not appropriate even though it was to feed your child. While breastfeeding is natural and there is nothing sexual about it, you still ought to respect the people around you who might not be comfortable with exposed breasts.”

“That’s stupid,” Dolley said. “Guys can—”

“You’re not a guy,” Mrs. Washington interrupted. “I know it’s not fair that there are different rules for males and females but it’s a fact of our society. You’re seventeen, Dolley. It’s our job to protect you and to help you. I do think it’s silly to make you feed Todd in a different room but it would be appropriate to have some kind of cover.”

“Todd doesn’t like being covered.” Dolley readjusted the baby.

“Not for Todd but for your breasts.”

Dolley glanced down at her bare chest. “I understand. You don’t want George seeing a young bod—”

“Go to your room, Dolley,” Mrs. Washington commanded abruptly. “You will not speak like that or disrespect me.”

Clutching Todd, Dolley stormed out of the room.

After being banned from the kitchen, the boys had retreated to Washington’s office and sat in the suede chairs in the corner.

Laurens rubbed at his eyes. “If I hadn’t been gay before…”

“Breasts aren’t the worst thing,” Hamilton said. He slunk down and stretched out his legs to reach Laurens’ chair and lay his feet in his friend’s lap.

“You’re right,” Laurens said and tickled the bottom of Hamilton’s bare feet, “toes are far worse. Get these off of me.”

Hamilton moved a foot between Laurens’ legs.

Laurens pushed it away. “Don’t go there now, Alexander. I know you don’t want it. You’re just worked up because of Dolley.”

Hamilton sat up. “Thanks for making that weird super fast, John.”

Laurens sighed. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Enlighten me.” Hamilton crossed his legs on the chair and leaned forward, chin in his hands.

With another sigh, he said, “Didn’t you lose your virginity at fourteen? Dolley probably did, too. But you’re many years past your sex-crazed foster years and Dolley is a strong reminder of what that was like and you miss that no-strings attached lifestyle.”

“Huh.”

“Am I wrong?” Laurens questioned.

“No, you’re pretty damn accurate.” Hamilton leaned back in the chair. “It kind of worries me, not your accuracy but the truth. I do miss it.” He met Laurens’ eyes. “But you’re also right that I don’t want it right now. I’m not emotionally ready.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Laurens stood and kissed Hamilton on the forehead. “Can we go sit on the front porch?”

The boys headed outside at the same time Mrs. Washington had instructed her husband to take Anna for a walk.

“Since we’re banished,” Hamilton asked his dad, “can we go get ice cream?” He knew the ice cream kiosk a mile away had opened again for the summer.

“Fine,” Washington said after he checked that he had his wallet, “but if Anna gets tired you have to carry her.”

Halfway there, Anna claimed she was tired and Hamilton hoisted her on his back.

“Your hair is really red,” she said with a giggle.

“You need to hold on,” Hamilton said as she played with his hair.

She stopped and wrapped her arms around his neck.

At the kiosk, everyone ordered chocolate and vanilla swirl cones. Anna was quick to get ice cream all over her t-shirt. “I like ice cream,” she declared. “This is the third time I’ve had it.”

“Well, we’ll have it more often then,” said Washington. When she finished her cone, he set her on his shoulders.

At home, Mrs. Washington cleaned up the dinner mess. At least most of the food had been eaten before the debacle. “Did everyone get enough?” she asked when the family returned home and crowded in the kitchen doorway.

“We had ice cream!” Anna said. “It’s way better than carrots.”

The men said they were fine.

“Where’s Dolley?” Washington asked.

“I sent her to her room,” Mrs. Washington replied curtly.

“What...”

“We’ll talk about it tonight.”

Laurens touched Hamilton’s arm. “I have to get home. Walk me out?”

The boys headed back outside and their hands clasped together as they left the house. 

They stopped next to Laurens’ car and lingered in silence. 

“When will you be over again?” Hamilton asked at last.

“I’m off Tuesday,” Laurens replied. “I have mostly late shifts this week, though.” He shivered as Hamilton stroked his arm. “Maybe we could go out for dinner?”

“I’d like that.” He moved in closer and stood on his toes. He wrapped his arms around Laurens’ neck and leaned in.

Laurens turned his head. “Is this what you want or what you feel like you need to do?”

Hamilton met his eyes. “Want.”

Their lips met with a gentle touch until Laurens wrapped his arms around Hamilton and pulled him closer, tighter. The kiss grew hungrier and sparked their senses. Laurens boosted Hamilton into his arms and leaned him against the car. They grew breathless yet continued to kiss until Hamilton pulled away, lips tingling. His legs remained hooked around Laurens’ waist, back against the car. His thin chest heaved as he caught his breath. “That felt so good,” he whispered.

Laurens could only nod, eyes locked on his friend’s face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He let his legs slide down and stood. Head on Laurens’ shoulder he finished catching his breath in the warm security of someone who would always be there.

“I don’t want to go home,” Laurens murmured.

Hamilton drew back. “I want you here, too, but we know what’ll happen tonight.”

Laurens nodded. “You’re right.” He kissed Hamilton’s forehead. “I’ll see you Tuesday. Maybe we could go to the beach first.”

“I’d like that.” Hamilton squeezed Laurens’ hand as he struggled to let him leave. He took a deep breath. “Okay. Tuesday.” He still couldn’t let go.

“One more kiss?” Laurens suggested.

***

Anna had already been tucked in bed by the time Hamilton made it inside. His parents shared a smile having seen the kiss from the kitchen window as they did dishes. 

“All good?” Washington asked.

Hamilton could only nod, grin on his tingling lips, stars in his eyes.

“Good night, Alexander.”

“It really is,” Hamilton replied as he headed upstairs.

Washington picked up the two empty wine glasses. “Should I check on Dolley or should you?”

“Go ahead,” said Mrs. Washington. “I’m still too annoyed with her.” She went upstairs to get ready for bed.

Washington rinsed out the wine glasses and put them in the dishwasher. Upstairs, he poked his head in Dolley’s room. “Everything good for the night?”

Dolley lay in bed on her phone while Todd slept in his crib. “Yeah. Night.”

“Good night.” Washington closed the door. He checked on Anna who was sound asleep cuddling her teddy bear. Next, he tapped on the bathroom door. “Not much longer, Alexander.” Closed doors with Hamilton still worried him and the no-locking privilege remained.

Hamilton opened the door, toothbrush in hand. “I’m in love again.”

A bemused smile touched Washington’s face. “Good for you.” He just hoped it would, indeed, be a good thing.

At last, he made it to his room and got ready for bed and the discussion about Dolley. Once they were in bed, he asked, “What did she say?”

“That I was offended by her breastfeeding at the table because I didn’t want you to see a younger body.” Mrs. Washington shook her head in annoyance. “The nerve of that girl.”

Washington grimaced. “Well, we’ve had sexually deviant boys before. We can handle this.”

“The boys were easier.” Mrs. Washington sighed. “It was so difficult making my point when I knew she’d exposed herself because you and the boys were in the room. I didn’t want her to get the wrong opinion of breastfeeding but she also can’t just drop her top like that in the name of feeding her child.”

“I know, dear.” Washington kissed her hand. 

“I tried to make it a respect thing for herself and others,” she continued. “But she knows the reaction breasts get and she will do it for the attention.”

“I know,” Washington repeated. “I shouldn’t have reacted and sent the boys out.”

“I don’t know what the correct response should have been.” She snuggled against her husband. “We try again.”

“We have plenty of practice with that.” Washington kissed her head. “I’m a little concerned with her behavior toward Alexander.” He paused in thought. “He had control issue when we took him in but I don’t remember sexual advances or such behavior. Am I remembering correctly?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Washington said. “He didn’t act out like that. At least, Lafayette has never mentioned any such advances or inappropriate remarks. I know he never crossed a line with me.”

“Good.” He paused again. “However, I think he’s remembering the foster homes where he did act out like that and I’m afraid her behavior may provoke a response.”

Mrs. Washington pulled back to look at him. “Alexander wouldn’t. He’s never crossed that line. She’s underage.”

Washington pinched his bottom lip. “He doesn’t always think, dear. I have no doubt that he wouldn’t initiate such behavior but she is coercive and if he doesn’t see it... I don’t think they should be near each other unsupervised.”

Mrs. Washington nodded. “Is it wise to allow Dolley to stay? Although, I believe we can help her.”

“I believe that, too, and I’m willing to continue fostering her. But Alexander is our priority and we can’t let him get put in a situation that may get himself in trouble.”

“I’ll keep Dolley occupied,” Mrs. Washington suggested.

“I can do the same with Alex,” Washington decided. “He can come to my lectures with me. It’ll be good for him to get out of the house other than for doctor and therapy appointments anyway. Perhaps a parenting class or a hobby for Dolley would be good, too.”

“I’ll look into that.”

They fell silent, in thought of what they were embarking on. If they didn’t believe they had the skills and home life for Dolley, they knew they’d have to request a removal. But they weren’t ready to give up on her. She didn’t deserve that.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two dates

“It’s one night, Jem,” Jefferson complained. “You don’t need that much stuff.”

Madison glared at him as he gathered several stuffed animals. “You could just stay here.”

“We’ve been through this.” Jefferson picked up Madison’s backpack. “What is in this thing? Rocks? You have to get used to staying away from home. You’ve stayed at hotels with me before and this will be a lot quieter and less stressful. Ready?”

“Fine.” He clutched his armload of comfort items.

Twenty minutes later, Jefferson parked and led the way upstairs.

Madison had yet to see the apartment and looked it over with a critical eye. “My room is bigger.”

“Glad you love it,” Jefferson said ignoring his tone. “We can watch movies like we always do in your room. This’ll be no different. I’ll order pizza, how does that sound?”

Madison shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Wherever you want.” Jefferson kissed his head.

Cheese pizza and breadsticks were soon ordered and Madison found a movie to watch. The apartment wasn’t as quiet as his room, though, and his sensitive ears picked up the traffic noise outside and slamming doors down the hall. He snuggled into Jefferson and tried to concentrate on the TV, which was about half the size of the one in his bedroom.

Pizza arrived and Madison ate a small piece and a breadstick. “Can we go home?” he asked while Jefferson cleaned up the dishes. His boyfriend ignored him and put the leftover pizza in the fridge.

When bedtime arrived, Madison complained about the small bathroom.

“Enough, James,” Jefferson snapped at him. “I’ll take you home.” He grabbed his keys off the counter.

“No, I’m sorry,” Madison said and wrapped his arms around him. “I’m not good at this.”

“I know, but you’re with me.” Jefferson lifted him up. “Don’t I give you any security?”

“You do.”

“Then you’ll be fine.” He set Madison on the bed and tucked him in with his stuffed animals.

It didn’t take long for Jefferson to fall asleep but Madison lay awake listening to the traffic noise that he could still hear over the whir of an upright fan. He almost dozed off when a door slammed next door. He moved closer to Jefferson, head on his boyfriend’s chest. He concentrated on the thumping of his heart and managed to fall asleep.

As the early summer sun streamed in through the windows, Jefferson woke to find Madison laying on top of him. He rolled his boyfriend off without waking him and went into the bathroom. He’d just gotten in the shower when he heard his name called.

“In the shower,” Jefferson replied.

Madison opened the bathroom door. “I survived the night, T.”

“I’m aware.” Jefferson was tall enough to see over the shower curtain rod and smiled at his boyfriend. “Was it that terrible?”

“It was noisy.” Madison opened a jar of lotion. “But you were with me.” He stopped a yawn. “I may need a nap later, though.”

“I’m still proud of you.” He lathered shampoo in his hair. “You feeling comfortable away from Montpelier and your parents is the first step to us getting engaged.”

Madison rubbed lotion on his face. “I know. I can do it. I’ll stay two nights a week to start with.”

A smile tugged at Jefferson’s lips. “That sounds perfect.”

Madison finished his morning routine. “I’ll make you breakfast.” He didn’t wait for an answer and closed the bathroom door.

He opened his backpack and tug out the supplies he’d packed: proper dishes, cloth napkins, table cloth, flowers, a vase, cinnamon rolls his mom had made, and chocolate pastries.

When Jefferson came out of the bathroom, the floor of the apartment was transformed by a fancy breakfast with china dishes and a vase of fake lilacs.

“James Madison, you are the most amazing boyfriend.” Jefferson scooped him up and covered him with kisses. “I love you so much.”

Madison giggled. “I like when I can make you happy.”

“You do that every moment I’m with you.” He brushed Madison’s hair back from his face. “We’ll be together forever and I’ll be the luckiest and happiest person alive.”

***

When he saw Hamilton come outside in jeans, Laurens realized going to the beach wouldn’t be enjoyable for his friend. The day was hot and sticky and while he wanted nothing more than to wade in the water and walk along the sand barefoot, he knew exposing his legs was not in Hamilton’s comfort zone.

“Ready?” Laurens said when Hamilton buckled his seatbelt.

“Yup.” Hamilton smiled at him.

When he missed the first exit to the beach, Hamilton kept quiet and assumed Laurens knew a better place to park but when he drove past the next exit, he questioned, “Where’re we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Laurens said. He turned off the interstate and coasted down the long, curved off-ramp.

“The museum?” Hamilton asked.

“Perhaps,” Laurens teased.

“Yes!”

Laurens soon pulled into the parking lot and found a decent spot. He paid for their tickets inside. “Where to first?”

“History.” Hamilton dragged him to the left.

As they examined artifacts and displays, Hamilton shared all his knowledge of the Revolutionary War, that entire era, and everything he knew of early New York.

Laurens listened, bemused, as he took in every fact and the excitement on his best friend’s face.

“We’ll go to England someday,” he said once Hamilton exhausted his knowledge, “and you will get to see real suits of armor and torture devices and you can tell me all about medieval history.”

“I’d like that.” He took Laurens’ hand. “You think we’ll actually be able to visit England someday?”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

Hamilton squeezed his hand. “Let’s find turtles so you can tell me about them.”

They headed into the nature section of the museum filled with taxidermy animals in realistic scenes. Laurens didn’t have the same scope of remembering things as Hamilton did but managed to find some facts in his brain to share as they studied the various turtles from desert tortoises to huge sea turtles.

“I love how much you appreciate turtles,” Hamilton said. “I never think about them much but you show me how amazing they are.”

Laurens shrugged, face growing warm. “Let’s find the wolves.”

On the way to the wolves, they were sidetracked by the wild cat display.

“You know cheetahs aren’t considered a big cat because they can’t roar,” Hamilton said as he leaned against Laurens. “They can purr, though.”

“You know too much,” Laurens said as he stroked Hamilton’s back. “It’s amazing.”

They found the wolves and Hamilton exclaimed over the size and how much he wanted one.

“You don’t even like big dogs,” Laurens said with a chuckle. “A wolf would eat Potato.”

“I would train it not to,” Hamilton said decisively. “They’re just so cute!”

As both were growing hungry, they made a quick loop through the art section and tried to figure out what the paintings and sculptures represented. As their conclusions became more and more food related, they headed for the exit.

“That was the best idea,” Hamilton gushed as he swung Laurens’ hand in his. “I had the best time.”

“I’m glad, Hammy.” He squeezed Hamilton’s hand. “Your happiness means the world to me.”

“As does yours to me.” They stopped at the car and Hamilton pushed Laurens against it and kissed him.

Laurens’ legs weakened at the passion and he closed his eyes, body melting against the hot car. He pulled Hamilton closer. “I love you,” he purred during a quick break before they were locked together again.

After a few minutes, Hamilton drew back and sucked in his tingling bottom lip. “John Laurens, would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?”

Moisture gathered in Laurens’ eyes as he said, “That would make me the happiest person alive.” He pulled Hamilton close again and held on tight, too aware of what he could have lost that horrible night. “Yes, Alexander.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because the last chapter was too happy.

Lafayette hadn’t met the new foster children yet and the Washington’s remedied that over the weekend and invited him and his fiancée over for dinner.

A distance had remained between him and his family since Hamilton’s suicide attempt and psych ward admittance. While he had continued his usual phone correspondence with his mom, Washington heard little from him directly, and he hadn’t spoken to Hamilton without prodding.

The dogs gave their usual loud greeting and Potato taught Noodle how to growl at Lafayette.

“You know how to pick them, Mom,” Lafayette said. “Perhaps next time you get a friendly, large mutt?”

“No large dogs, dear.” Mrs. Washington kissed his cheek and did the same to Adrienne. Once there was quiet, she introduced Dolley, Anna, and Todd.

Anna giggled when Lafayette presented himself with a deep bow. “You have a funny name. Can I call you Laffy?”

“Sure,” Lafayette agreed.

Anna bobbed a wobbly curtsy.

Next to them, Adrienne cooed over the baby. “He’s beautiful, Dolley, like his mama.”

Dolley couldn’t help but smile. “You can hold him.”

Adrienne took the baby and gave her fiancé a pointed look.

“Soon,” he promised her and turned toward the kitchen. “Hello, Dad.” His voice was polite, almost too formal.

“It’s good to see you, Laf,” Washington said, his own voice a little stiff. “Come get a drink.”

Hamilton backed out of the way of the kitchen doorway, head down, right hand gripped over his left wrist.

Mrs. Washington patted him on the back as she ushered the girls to follow. “Give him a little time to settle in,” she assured. 

Dinner remained quiet. Adrienne asked Dolley a few questions about her hobbies and they spoke about clothes and fashion trends. Lafayette asked after the dogs. Anna added some nonsense chatter.

When it was time to clear the table, Washington said, “The boys and I will handle the dishes. You ladies enjoy the evening.”

Mrs. Washington smiled at him and followed the girls and dogs outside.

The table was cleared in silence until Washington lost his patience. “Can you tell us what’s bothering you, Laf?”

Lafayette focused on putting a cup in the dishwasher. “I realize Alexander needed more attention,” he began slowly, voice low, “but I could have used your help last spring, too, Dad. It was hard getting through finals and figuring out what I had to do for graduation.”

“Laf.” Washington touched his back. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You had so much on your plate with your health and Alexander. I didn’t want to be a burden.” He glanced at his dad but continued to keep Hamilton out of his sight. 

“I’m sorry, Lafayette.” His eyes begged for forgiveness. “I became blind to everything around me. I never meant for you to feel second best and unimportant. I always want to be there to help you.”

“Thank you.” Lafayette picked up another cup. “I still need my dad.”

“You’ll always have me.” Washington opened his arms and Lafayette embraced him. “But you did an amazing job with your finals, Laf. I’m very proud of you.”

Lafayette grinned. “Thanks.” His eyes flitted toward Hamilton who remained by the table.

Washington beckoned his son over. “I know you don’t know to say to each other but—”

“I can’t get over how selfish it was,” Lafayette blurted. “Why do you need so much attention, Alex? Can you not be an attention whore for a day?”

“Lafayette!” Washington frowned. “Your brother—”

“He’s not my brother.” Lafayette looked at Hamilton with a hard gaze. “I know anxiety and depression are not your fault but you tried to kill yourself and I can’t forgive that. You don’t understand how much pain you did cause and how much more you would have caused. I can’t respect you.”

Hamilton left the room without a word. 

“You’ll always be my son, Laf,” Washington said with a sigh. “But that was not acceptable.” He went after Hamilton. Upstairs, he pushed open the bathroom door and stopped his son rummaging around the bottom cabinet. “You don’t need to hurt yourself.” He wrapped his arms around Hamilton and pressed him close. “Not everyone is going to understand and it’s going to hurt but you are not alone.” He heard Hamilton’s muffled sob and stroked his hair. “Lafayette has always struggled with jealousy and my own anger and self-absorption got in the way of my remembering he needed me, too. He’s angry at me, Alexander, not you, I promise.”

Hamilton pressed his forehead deeper against Washington’s chest. “I want to be his little lion again,” he mumbled.

“I know.” Washington kissed his head. “He just needs more time. You’ll still be his little lion.”

Hamilton nodded.

“Can you come sit outside with everyone?”

“I want John,” Hamilton whispered.

“He’s working tonight, love.” Washington stroked his hair.

Hamilton looked up. “I can go to the restaurant. Order dessert or something.”

Washington wiped at the tears still on his cheeks. “Okay. I’ll drive you.”

They went downstairs and Hamilton made a beeline for the garage while Washington stopped in the backyard. “John invited Alexander out. I’m going to drop him off,” he lied and was glad he knew no one would question his lame story.

“Okay, dear,” Mrs. Washington said as her eyes met his and read the crisis in his furrowed brow.

Fifteen minutes later, Washington found a parking space at the restaurant and walked in with Hamilton. Before the waiter could ask how many, Washington questioned, “Is John Laurens working tonight?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Does he have a table available?”

The waiter checked. “Yeah, right this way.”

They took a seat and within a few minutes, Laurens headed over. 

“Hey, you guys.” Laurens touched Hamilton’s shoulder and saw his puffy face. “What’s wrong?”

“Lafayette.” Hamilton stared at the table and dragged his finger along in a circle.

“I’m sorry, babe.” He sat next to Hamilton and hugged him. “Do you want a brownie? I’ll make sure you get the best one.”

Hamilton nodded. 

“Thanks, John,” Washington said. He looked at his son. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I’ll be okay,” Hamilton said with a slow blink.

Washington stood. “Let me know if you need a ride home.”

“I get off at nine,” Laurens said. “I’ll bring him home.”

Hamilton nodded his agreement.

“Let me know for sure,” Washington insisted. He touched Hamilton’s face and took his leave. 

Laurens glanced at his other tables nearby, saw that no one was in dire need of his assistance, and remained seated next to Hamilton. “What happened?”

Hamilton told him what Lafayette had said about him being selfish and his brother not able to respect him. He kept himself hunched over with his shoulders drooped.

“Dang, Hammy.” Laurens squeezed his knee. “I wish I could make him understand. I’ll go get you that brownie, okay? Want a scoop of ice cream with it?”

Hamilton nodded.

It wasn’t long before Laurens returned with the warm brownie and ice cream drizzled with chocolate syrup. He set down a mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, too. He stroked Hamilton’s cheek. “We’ll get you through this, I promise, Hammy. You’re not alone.”

“Thanks, Jack,” he whispered. He licked at the whipped cream. “Laf said I wasn’t his brother.”

Laurens sat next to him again. “This is breaking my heart, babe.” He rubbed Hamilton back while he continued to lick the whipped cream. “Do you want me to talk to Lafayette?”

Hamilton shrugged. He picked up the spoon and took a little bite of ice cream.

“Take your time eating.” Laurens tugged his ponytail. “Flag me down if you need anything, okay? I’ll come over again in a few minutes.”

Hamilton ate slowly and Laurens stopped by often and shared silly stories or told him to look up a meme. He brought a second hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. A quarter to nine, he brought the bill for zero dollars. 

“On the house and don’t try to tip me.” He tucked back a wayward strand of Hamilton’s hair. “Can you wait for me outside? I just have to clock out.”

Hamilton agreed and went outside and stayed near the front door.

A few minutes later, Laurens joined him. “What would you like to do?”

“I don’t want to go home,” Hamilton said and took Laurens’ hand. “I just need to be close to you.”

“Okay.” 

They walked to Laurens’ car, got in, and resumed holding hands. 

“My aunt won’t care if you spend the night,” Laurens said. “Do you want to do that?”

Hamilton nodded; his shoulders still slumped in defeat. “I’ll text Dad.”

Laurens maneuvered with one hand to shift into reverse and back up. He turned sloppily but managed and got out of the parking lot.

His aunt didn’t live far away and they were soon in the two-bedroom apartment.

“Is your aunt even home?” Hamilton questioned as Laurens flipped on some lights.

“She’s probably at her boyfriend’s,” Laurens said. He gestured around the room. “It’s not much but make yourself comfortable.”

Hamilton remained in the kitchen.

“What?” Laurens touched his shoulder.

“I haven’t spent a night away from Dad since I got back from the hospital.” He twisted the bracelet on his wrist.

A knot settled in Laurens’ stomach as he remembered the last night he and Hamilton had been alone. A shiver ran through his body. “Do-do you want to stay at Mount Vernon?” He cussed his unsteady voice.

“You’re afraid to be alone with me, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I am, too. I get bad thoughts and I wondered if I shouldn’t have...”

“No.” Laurens squeezed Hamilton’s hand. “You survived. I am still scared but I will never leave you in the dark. Come see my room and you can decide if it’s too appalling to stay in or not.” He opened the door across from the kitchen. “When you’re a big shot lawyer and I own my own business we’ll have something as grand as Mount Vernon.”

Hamilton glanced around the small, messy room. “I like that idea.” He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and tucked his head against his neck. “We can stay here. I’ll be okay.”

Laurens held him tight.

They soon got ready for bed with Hamilton borrowing a t-shirt. 

“Do you like being a waiter?” Hamilton asked as they lay side by side in bed.

“I do,” Laurens said. “I like being around all the people and it’s something new every day. Plenty of customers are jerks but the people who are nice make up for it.”

Hamilton was quiet for a minute before he said, “I’m worried about being a lawyer. I don’t know if I could be in a courtroom anymore. Being around people stresses me out. That used to be my dream and now I’m not sure.”

Laurens scooted closer and wrapped Hamilton in his arms. “If you still enjoy law, you can find a job that won’t require you to be in a courtroom. You’re still healing right now and you might enjoy the chaos again later.” He kissed the back of Hamilton’s neck. “But if you don’t that’s okay. Dreams change and there is nothing wrong with that. You might change your mind again when you have a bunch of baby Hamilton’s.”

A smile touched Hamilton’s lips. “Thanks, Jack.”

“Of course, Hammy.”

Sleep soon won out but Hamilton woke a little after midnight drenched in sweat and shaking.

Laurens stirred when Hamilton sat up and he turned on a light. “What’s wrong?”

Hamilton sat at the edge of the bed and hugged himself shivering. “I’m sorry.”

Laurens scooted across the bed and held him close. “Anxiety attack?”

“I don’t know.” His breath hitched as he tried to take in a deep inhalation.

“I’m here.” He tried to remember what grounding techniques worked for Hamilton. “Tell me what you see.”

Hamilton didn’t answer too focused on his thundering heart and the threat of imminent danger.

“What about touch?” Laurens tried again. “What can you touch?”

Hamilton grabbed Laurens’ hand.

“Good. What else? Can you feel the blankets?”

Hamilton rubbed a shaky hand against the comforter. “Soft,” he murmured.

“What about my hand?”

“Warm.”

“Good. Do you smell anything?”

Hamilton took a few quick sniffs. “Cinnamon?”

“Yeah.” Laurens squeezed his hand. “My aunt likes scentsy’s. I think the one she’s using now is, like, spice cake or something. What do you see?”

“Your room is messy.”

Laurens chuckled. “Yeah... Can you see anything besides clutter?”

Hamilton’s eyes drifted from the open closet door stuffed with clothes and boxes to the top of the dresser piled with books, DVD cases, candy wrappers, and socks. He told Laurens everything he saw and, as his breathing evened out, the tension left his body. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “I don’t know why I panicked.”

“Your brain probably forgot where you were.” He covered a yawn. “Are you ready to go back to sleep?”

“Can I get something to drink first?”

“Yeah.” Laurens followed him to the kitchen and poured two glasses of orange juice and took them back to his room. 

Hamilton chugged half of it and snuggled back under the covers. 

Laurens started to snuggle him but stopped when the damp shirt touched him. He plucked at Hamilton’s sweat-soaked t-shirt. “Do you want to change?”

Hamilton tugged off the t-shirt and pulled Laurens arms around him. “Okay?”

Laurens kissed him on the cheek and drifted back to sleep.

***

On a stricter schedule, Laurens woke first a few minutes after seven. He took their empty glasses back to the kitchen, texted Washington since he knew the anxious father would be having just as hard of a time not having his boy with him, and got dressed.

Hamilton woke when Laurens came back in the room. He stretched out and yawned. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” Laurens pulled back the blankets. “I’ll take you home when you’re ready.”

Hamilton rolled out of bed and kissed Laurens as he walked through the doorway. 

Dressed and ready a few minutes later, they headed for Mount Vernon. 

The dogs greeted them with loud yaps and tail wags. Washington leaned his chair back in the kitchen to see the front door. “There’s my boy.”

Hamilton hurried into the kitchen and sat on Washington’s knee. “I missed you.”

“It was entirely too quiet without you,” Washington said. He massaged his son’s shoulders. “Did you do okay?”

Hamilton looked to Laurens. 

“Just one little panic attack,” Laurens said. He leaned against the kitchen doorway. “I’m proud of him.”

“Good.” Washington booted him off his leg. “Go take your meds so you’re not too much off schedule.”

Hamilton stood. “Where’s Mom?”

“She took the girls and Todd shopping.” 

Hamilton headed upstairs and Laurens sat at the table. “Why can’t Lafayette understand?” he asked.

Washington took a sip of coffee. “I wish I knew for sure. I thought Martha and I had raised him well enough to understand mental disorders and be sympathetic of people who have them. He should know this isn’t Alexander’s fault.” He sighed. “I always hoped the two would get along but I can’t ignore the struggle between them when Alexander arrived and how Laf has always been jealous. I don’t think I ever did enough to dispel that.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Laurens said. “Lafayette’s a good guy but he’s always been more reserved in his affections than you or Alex is. Do you think it would have merit if I talked to him?”

Washington rubbed his chin. “Perhaps but that could also make him feel attacked. He has a right to feel as he does even though we all want him to be there for Alexander. I wish I had known he felt neglected before finals and graduation.”

Laurens pursed his lips. “I never noticed him struggling or overwhelmed. I mean, we only had one class together but I had a few with Herc and he never said anything. Actually, Herc told me that Laf was the one a bunch of their classmates were going to for help getting paperwork figured out.”

Washington sighed. “Great.”

Laurens looked at the table. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m glad to know.”

The conversation ended as Hamilton returned downstairs. He sat on Laurens’ lap. “What time do you work today?”

“Noon to nine again,” Laurens said. “I’ll have to head home in an hour to get ready.”

“Have you boys eaten?” Washington asked.

When they said they hadn’t, he got up, fixed them bacon, scrambled eggs, and made sure they had plenty of coffee.

***

Laurens returned after work and they watched a movie in Hamilton’s room.

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” Laurens asked. He plucked at his work polo. “I’m tired of smelling like food.”

“Sure, but I’m smaller than you,” Hamilton reminded him.

“You know I like my shirts tight.” Laurens opened the middle drawer of Hamilton’s dresser. He riffled through the clothes and his hand touched something cool. _Please don’t be a knife_ , he thought as his fingers searched it out. He pulled out Hamilton’s phoenix medallion. Relief passed through him but abruptly vanished when he remembered the only time he’d known Hamilton to take it off had been before he attempted suicide.

He turned around and held up the chain. “Why don’t you wear this anymore?”

Hamilton picked at the bracelet covering his scar. “I let everyone down,” he murmured.

“You didn’t.” Laurens sat next to him on the bed. “You know more about mythology than I do but aren’t phoenixes always reborn from themselves? Doesn’t that mean they get endless chances? You get to be reborn again, Hammy.” He slipped the chain over Hamilton’s head. “Please?”

Hamilton stroked the medallion and traced the phoenix with his fingernail. “You’re right. I can try again.” He met Laurens’ eyes. “We can try again.”

Laurens kissed him gently on the lips. “I like the sound of that.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic bliss

The apartment grew more cramped but became a less depressing place once Angelica moved in. With some careful rearranging, they fit a twin-size bed in the corner closer to the kitchen. There wasn’t much privacy but it was better than Angelica living in fear and Burr hating every evening alone.

Angelica also brought a small table and two chairs and a TV, which made the apartment feel more like a home instead of merely a place to sleep. With an AC unit in the window, the place became even more bearable.

It didn’t take too long to figure out how to manage each other, although it helped that neither was home often. Burr went to work early and often stayed late while Angelica worked two jobs. Both woke early, though, and compromising on the bathroom took some effort. Burr preferred to shower in the morning but agreed to switch to opposite nights as Angelica. He didn’t need the mirror for as long and could brush his teeth at the kitchen sink. Angelica pared down her morning routine not to hog the bathroom.

While he still wouldn’t drink it, Burr learned how to make coffee and had it ready for Angelica in the morning. In return, she made his lunch when she made her own the night before. 

Since Angelica had a car, she drove Burr to work when the weather was bad and they found time on Sunday to do the grocery shopping together every other week.

It wasn’t perfect—Burr’s moping about and lack of doing anything annoyed Angelica while her hyper-focus on everything being clean and organized grated on Burr. But they respected each other and found ways to compromise to avoid the alternative of struggling alone.

***

“You’ve seemed happier lately,” commented Theodosia one morning as Burr delivered morning papers.

“New roommate,” Burr said. “It’s nice having someone to help with the bills.”

Her smile grew a little strained. “I’m sure.”

They went about their day as usual. When he had downtime, Burr read old legal cases Theodosia provided for him to study and perused the law books in her office. He didn’t want to forget his education and Theodosia wanted him trained to become a legal assistant in a few years and move up the ladder another step.

“Mr. Burr,” Theodosia stood in the doorway to his office. “May I borrow you for a few minutes?”

“Of course.” Burr set his law book aside and followed her to her desk.

She indicated for him to sit. “I’m having a brain fart on this spreadsheet.” She explained what she wanted, leaning forward as she pointed at the computer, their cheeks almost touching.

Burr was quick to figure out the formatting and what he needed to do. “There you go.”

“Perfect, Mr. Burr.” She straightened and rested her hands on his shoulders, long manicured nails digging pleasantly into his skin. “Can you help me take some pictures this weekend?”

Burr glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’d love to.”

“I want to try some shots at the beach. If we go early enough, it might not be as crowded.”

“Okay.” He leaned back in the chair, wishing for more of her touch.

Her hands moved down his chest but only for a moment before she stepped back. “Work time.”

Saturday morning, she picked him up before seven and handed him a shopping bag. “I forgot to ask if you had a swimsuit so I bought you one.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t doubt it would be the right size but he hadn’t expected it to be so skimpy. His boxer briefs covered more, he was certain. He changed at the beach and kept on his t-shirt, too, in order to feel a little less naked.

Theodosia wore a black one-piece suit with a matching skirt; sunglasses perched perfectly on top of her head and tucked into her messy ponytail. She pointed her camera at Burr. “Smile.”

Burr frowned instead. “You could have warned me if I was going to be your model.”

“Nah, I have some other ideas, too.” She slipped her arm through his. “We need to find some pretty shells and a cooperative seagull.” 

“I’ll leave the seagull to you.” Burr searched for shells and found a few.

Not one to get dirty, Theodosia had him lay in the sand to take the pictures she wanted and coached him on getting the shot. “Don’t let the camera touch the sand,” she reminded him constantly.

Burr pointed the camera at her face. “Hush.” He clicked it as an involuntary smile touched her lips and made her eyes sparkle.

***

 _Am I picking you up tonight?_ Jefferson texted Madison in the morning. It was Wednesday and Madison had promised on Monday that he would spend the night. But two days was plenty of time for him to change his mind.

 _Yup!_ Madison replied. _I can pay for dinner if we want to get something on the way._

_Sounds good._

When he got off at five, Jefferson headed for Montpelier. Madison waited on the front porch, backpack on his back and stuffed cat in his arms.

“Why does this feel like a slumber party?” Jefferson asked as his boyfriend got in the truck.

“I’ve never been to a slumber party,” Madison replied as he buckled his seatbelt.

Jefferson reached across the console to pat his head. “Poor deprived baby.”

Madison caught his hand and kissed it. “Yeah, but when have you been to a slumber party, mister antisocial?”

He backed the truck up and rolled his eyes. “I’ve been to a few slumber parties with Angelica.”

“If it was just the two of you, I don’t think it counts.” Madison fiddled with the radio to change it from the news station to pop.

“Sometimes my sisters came, too.”

Madison snorted. “That counts even less.”

Jefferson grumbled to himself. “Fine, I’ve never been to a slumber party either. What deprived childhoods we lived.”

“Nah.” Madison reached for his hand. “A bunch of sugar-hyped, arguing kids never sounded like fun to me. There was nothing wrong with staying home.”

“True.” Jefferson smiled at him. “Where’re we getting for dinner?”

“I want chicken strips,” Madison said. “I don’t care from where.”

There was a Dairy Queen on the way to the apartment and they wouldn’t have to get out of the truck then. Plus, Madison could get his sugar fix with ice cream.

Once they were at the apartment and finished dinner, Jefferson told his boyfriend the plan for the evening. “I have to get the dishes done and pay a few bills. You’ll have to entertain yourself.” He could have easily done those things the night before but he wanted to see what domestic life would be like and not their usual evenings of watching TV.

“Adulting is boring,” Madison said. He sprawled out on the bed with his phone. “I’m not growing up.”

“I know.” Jefferson watched him. “But you will have to help out once we live together, especially if we get a cat.”

Madison’s head popped up. “Or five.”

“Did you hear what else I said?” Jefferson raised an eyebrow.

“We’ll get a maid.” He looked back at his phone.

“James.”

“Don’t ‘James’ me,” Madison pouted. “I’ve never done chores before. I don’t want to.”

Jefferson took the few steps to his bed and plucked Madison’s phone from his fingers. “Help me with the dishes, please.”

“But I didn’t dirty them,” he whined and reached for his phone.

Jefferson stepped back and returned to the kitchen where he put the phone on top of the fridge, an easy reach for him but inaccessible to his boyfriend.

Madison dragged himself off the bed. He sat on the kitchen counter and dried the dishes after Jefferson washed them. They worked in silence. Once the last dish was put away, Madison said in a soft voice, “I’m sorry. That was childish of me to complain. I will help out when we live together, I promise.”

Jefferson kissed his head. “Thank you.” He returned the phone. “It wasn’t very grown-up of me to take your phone either. I shouldn’t attempt to punish you. You’re my partner.”

A smile tugged at Madison’s lips and he wrapped his arms around Jefferson. “Do we get to watch a movie now?”

The bills could wait until tomorrow. “Yeah.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eBay

“Anna, get out!” Hamilton shouted as the door opened while he used the bathroom.

“Sorry.” Anna closed the door and ran to her sister’s room.

“Well?” Dolley asked with a raised eyebrow.

Anna shrugged.

“Get a picture next time when he’s in the shower.”

Downstairs, Hamilton took his usual seat in Washington’s office. “May I have door locking privileges back?” 

“Mom and I will talk about it,” Washington said distractedly as he gathered everything he needed for his first summer lecture. “Are you ready?”

“I suppose.” Hamilton took the bag Washington handed him. He had agreed to attend his dad’s lectures and help set up as a means of getting out of the house.

***

The next morning when he showered, Hamilton didn’t hear the door open but felt the flash of cold air against his backside as the curtain was pulled aside. “Anna!”

The camera clicked and Anna ran out of the bathroom.

Stumbling out of the shower and grabbing a towel, Hamilton tore after her.

She burst into tears and threw the phone at Dolley standing in the hallway.

“Why did you tell her to do that?” Hamilton fumed at the teen. “You have no respect!”

Washington’s feet pounded upstairs. “What’s going on?” He glanced between crying Anna, to half-naked and sudsy-haired Hamilton, to smirking Dolley.

“Dolley used Anna to take a picture of me!” Hamilton exclaimed as he tightened his hold on the towel and fought the strong urge to kick Dolley.

“I’m sorry!” Anna cried and hugged Washington’s leg.

Washington consoled the small girl with a gentle hand while he glared at Dolley. “Alex, go finish your shower.”

“Is that why he’s not allowed to lock the door?” Dolley pointed at Hamilton’s scarred legs. “He cuts himself?”

Tears shimmered in Hamilton’s eyes. “Dad.”

“Go.” Washington stepped in front of him. “Martha!” he shouted.

Mrs. Washington hurried up the stairs. “What’s going on?”

“We need to have a stern discussion with Dolley about respecting privacy after we calm Anna down.” His voice, though taut, remained a lot calmer than the pounding in his chest insinuated.

Mrs. Washington looked between the sisters exhibiting opposite emotions. “Okay. Anna, come here.”

Anna let go of Washington’s leg and let Mrs. Washington pick her up.

“I’d rather talk just to Martha,” Dolley said and crossed her arms. “ _You_ won’t be impartial because Alexander is _your_ baby.”

Washington looked at his wife.

“Brief me on the situation,” she said in a calm tone as she patted Anna’s back.

“Dolley used Anna to take a picture of Alexander while he was in the shower,” Washington elucidated, still fuming on the inside. He bent down to retrieve the phone still on the ground from Anna’s throw. He deleted the blurry picture. “You are not getting this back, Dolley.”

“It’s from my mom,” Dolley said fiercely as she glared at him. “You have to let me have it.”

“Think again.”

Dolley rolled her eyes. “So, who’s going to talk to me?”

“We’ll talk to you together,” Mrs. Washington said. She took Anna into the middle bedroom, soothed, and reassured her that she was not in trouble.

Washington remained in the hallway and tried to calm himself in order to be impartial. She’d managed to hit both his and Hamilton’s insecurity and put Washington even more on the defensive to protect his son. “Where’s Todd?” he asked.

“Sleeping.” Dolley stared at him, challenging him with unblinking dark eyes.

“Go get him.” Washington kept her steely gaze.

“No. He’s sleeping.”

He was reminded of the last time they had fostered siblings and should have remembered the manipulation and control between the two. Dolley had played them, he contemplated. She’d been sweet and quiet up until they were legally required to take care of her.

Once Anna had calmed down and was situated with toys, the Washington’s took Dolley downstairs to the office. Dolley sat in Hamilton’s usual chair while Washington took his, and his wife stood beside him.

“Why did you want Anna to take a picture of Alexander?” Washington asked. He wished he could say this conversation was a first for them but they’d had other boys torment each other and once had to, regretfully, send a boy to a different home after he tried to get in bed with another foster boy without consent.

Dolley shrugged and avoided looking at the adults.

“Answer, Dolley,” Mrs. Washington chided. “This will be over a lot faster if you communicate with us.”

Dolley picked at her nails. “Why do you think?” she mumbled.

The Washington’s exchanged an uncomfortable glance, as they did not want to discuss their son’s private parts.

“That’s not your business,” Washington said. “What you did crossed so many lines, Dolley.”

“Forgive me for being curious.” Dolley folded her arms and stared at her lap.

 _I will not_ , Washington almost spat out but managed to hold back his emotions and was glad his wife spoke first.

“Forgive me for being uncouth,” Mrs. Washington said, “but you’re not a virgin and know what male anatomy looks like.”

“Yeah, but he’s way shorter than any guy I’ve been with.” Dolley glanced at her foster mom. “I’m sorry. I know I let both of you down.”

Washington rubbed his burning cheeks. “You have, indeed, Dolley. We won’t have Alexander’s privacy compromised. But we give second chances. You are to stay out of Alexander’s bedroom and bathroom, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Dolley said with a bowed head.

“You are not to abuse your little sister in such a manner as to use her for your perverted games, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go tend to Todd,” Washington instructed.

Dolley hurried out of the office.

Mrs. Washington massaged her husband’s shoulders. “It’s expected that she would act out. We have to remember she is seventeen even though she is a mother.”

“Alexander is going through enough right now.” Washington shifted his shoulder for her to rub a tense spot. “He’s sensitive about his scars. I know that’s what hurt him most by this.”

“Then we tell Dolley not to question him about them.” She continued her massage. “Alex doesn’t have to tell her anything.”

Washington shrugged her hands off him. “If I tell you that I want her to leave, how terrible of a person does that make me?”

“Human.” Mrs. Washington turned his chair toward her. “But we have to give her another chance. She’ seventeen with a baby, very few foster parents would be willing to take her. I know Alex is upset but the foul was small. We give second chances.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Washington stood and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I need to check on him.”

Mrs. Washington grabbed his hand. “George, let him be. He’s okay.”

Washington gritted his teeth. “I know you’re right but…”

“Sit.”

Washington sat back down.

“Go online for fifteen minutes,” she told him as she adjusted the collar on his shirt. “Distract yourself. Buy me something on eBay. Everything will be fine.”

“Yes, dear.” Washington held back a grumble and clicked on the browser icon. “Whatever I binge buy you’re paying for.”

“Fine.” She kissed his cheek and left the office, closing the door behind her.

***

“Dad?” Hamilton pushed open the office door. “Mom told me she banned you to your office. I brought you a snack.” He set a bowl of grapes on the desk.

Washington turned from his computer where he’d just lost a bidding war on some toys for Anna. “Thanks, son.”

Hamilton sat in his seat, one leg folded beneath him. “I’ll survive,” he said. “I assume you deleted any picture Anna took?”

“Yes.” Washington pulled a grape free of the stem. “You’re going through enough; I don’t like you be—”

“Dad.” Hamilton regarded at him. “I know Mom told you to butt out and I agree with her. This wasn’t the worse thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m over it.”

“As you will, Alexander.” Washington took another grape. “I’ll try to start reining myself back from being so overprotective.”

“Thank you.” Hamilton unfolded his leg and leaned across the desk. “What’re you buying?”

“Some stuff for Anna.” Washington turned the screen so Hamilton could get a better view. “Help me find a doll for her.”

Hamilton sat on the desk and they browsed through listings until they found a doll in new condition with Anna’s dark hair, fair skin, and dark blue eyes.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise.

“Our boss wants to see you.”

Jefferson’s breath caught in his throat. “What?” He stared at Greene. Had someone outed him and Madison? It had been three weeks and he was honestly surprised their relationship had remained a secret that long. Although, it helped that Madison was only in the office a few hours a week.

“You know where his office is, right?” Greene asked instead.

“No.” Jefferson wiped at the sweat beading above his lip.

“Come along.”

Jefferson followed Greene as the last few days played through his mind. Had he lingered around Madison’s desk too long? Had someone seen him slipping Madison candy?

Greene knocked on Reynold’s door and left Jefferson alone.

“Enter,” Reynolds said.

Jefferson slipped in. “Sir?”

“Ah, Jefferson. Sit.” Reynolds pointed to the chair in front of his desk. He was a beefy man, bald on top but with shaggy sideburns. Jefferson knew of his daughter from college, although only through Angelica’s story of Hamilton’s hook up with the girl, which seemed like a lifetime ago.

Jefferson sat and folded his hands in his lap. He licked his dry lips.

“When do you go back to law school?” Reynolds shuffled through some papers.

Jefferson swallowed. “After Labor Day, sir.”

“If you’re interested, we would like to keep you on as your schedule allow.” Reynolds leaned forward. “We’d rather not lose you to Madison Sr.’s other firm if possible.”

The pounding eased in Jefferson’s chest. “I will consider it, sir. I won’t know for sure how much time I have until I start my studies.”

“Understandable.” Reynolds leaned back. “Was your father a judge?”

“Yes, sir.” He licked his lips again.

“I thought the name Jefferson rang a bell. He was a good man. Best of luck.”

“Thank you.” Jefferson started to rise out of the seat when the boss spoke again.

“I’m aware of your relationship with junior; kind of difficult for my partner to keep that from me.” He gave a dry chuckle. “Anyway, he’s struggling, isn’t he?”

Jefferson fought to swallow. “Yes, sir. He’s shy. I don’t think answering phones are his strong suit.”

“I’ll agree with you. You can go, Jefferson.”

Jefferson left and hurried back to his desk.

On his lunch break, he texted Madison, _Am I picking you up tonight?_ He wanted to mention the meeting with Reynold’s and the possibility Madison could get a new position but decided to save that for later since when they could talk in person.

 _Is it okay if I say no_? Madison replied.

 _Not a problem, Jem_ , Jefferson assured having expected it the past two weeks since his boyfriend had remained diligent in staying over. _Maybe tomorrow night?_

_For sure!_

They texted a little longer and said their goodbyes.

As they ended the conversation, Angelica texted him. _Are you doing anything tonight?_

 _Well, Jemmy just canceled on me_ , Jefferson wrote back, _but a quiet evening was sounding pretty good so I’ll probably stay in, have a glass of wine and binge watch something._

_You’re so lame! Come out for drinks with me._

_Not tonight_ , Jefferson persisted, his mind already going over his options of what to watch and eat.

He took his time that afternoon finishing some tasks and left twenty minutes late. His mind was stuck on the pizza he would have for dinner as he unlocked the door and flipped on the light that it didn’t register at first the new decorations.

Fairy lights twinkled around the kitchen in the dim lighting. A sweet vanilla scent filled the air along with an enticing garlic smell. A blanket was spread on the floor along with fake candles.

“James Madison, I know you’re in here,” Jefferson said as a grin spread across his face.

From around the corner of the L-shaped apartment, Madison peeked out. “Hi.”

“This is perfect.” Jefferson crossed the room and scooped him up. He squeezed his boyfriend tight. “I did not expect this is all.”

Madison smiled. “Good.”

He set Madison on the counter making them eye level. They kissed slow and sweet.

Jefferson pulled away first and murmured, “What’s for dinner?”   

“Parmesan chicken with spaghetti and garlic bread,” Madison said. He tugged on Jefferson’s tie. “Cupcakes for dessert.”

“Perfect.” 

While Madison dished up the food, Jefferson poured wine and they sat on the floor. 

“May I ask where the food came from?” Jefferson said after he devoured his plateful.

“Mrs. Washington,” Madison said with a smile. 

“So you stole their dinner?” he teased.

Madison rolled his eyes. “You’re almost perfect, T.”

“Almost, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “What would make me perfect?”

“If our last names matched.” Madison reached under the blanket and pulled out a small box. He popped it open. “Thomas Jefferson, will you marry me?”

Jefferson’s heart pounded in his chest as a smile spread across his face while moisture gathered in his eyes. “Of course, Jemmy, yes.” He leaned across their makeshift table and kissed him. “Forever.”

Madison climbed in his lap and slipped the ring on his finger. “Perfect.”

Jefferson held him tight, resting his head against Madison’s and letting his tears soak into his hair. “Why aren’t you crying?” he blubbered. 

“I’m too content,” Madison said and snuggled into his fiancé. “I’ve wished for this since I was, like, thirteen. I love you.”

Jefferson squeezed him tighter. “I love you, too.” He kissed his cheek. “What’re you thinking of for the wedding?”

“Small,” Madison said as he soaked up Jefferson’s warmth and security. “Or as small as possible considering how big our families are. Them and our friends.”

“Sounds good to me. When?”

“I think next fall would be nice.”

Jefferson rubbed his cheek against his fiancé’s. “I agree.” He’d expected to be the one to propose—and had hoped to, to avoid an over-the-top Madison production—but was pleased with the way Madison took control. “Dessert?”

“Yeah.” Madison twisted around and traced his jawline with a gentle finger. Their lips brushed together for a moment.

But, eager for the cupcakes Mrs. Washington had also baked, Madison stood and tugged at Jefferson’s hand. From the oven where he’d hidden them, Madison pulled out the container and opened the lid to the chocolate cupcakes with chocolate cream centers and buttercream frosting.

“Those look amazing,” Jefferson said.

“Right?” Madison licked his lips. “I’ve been in agony all day waiting to eat them.”

Jefferson laughed. “I do believe that would cause you more agony than asking me to marry you.”

Madison rolled his eyes but he grinned.

They sat on the bed close together to eat the cupcakes.

“Didn’t Mrs. Washington make cupcakes like these for her and Washington’s twenty-fifth anniversary party?” Jefferson asked.

Madison nodded, mouth stuffed with chocolate. He swallowed down the bite. “I thought it would be a good omen.”

“I like the way you think.”

“How much do you remember of the party?” Madison questioned as he watched his fiancé’s face.

“Probably not as much as I should,” Jefferson admitted. “It was significant to you, wasn’t it?”

A blush crept up Madison’s cheeks. “It was the first time I sat on your lap.”

Jefferson struggled to fight back a chuckle as his lips twisted up in a grin. “You really have been waiting forever, haven’t you? You were what, fourteen?”

“Yeah.” Madison sucked frosting off his fork. “You were in the front room at Mount Vernon while I had been forced to stay in the family room with the other little kids. I had had enough of that and went to see if I could join the adults. There wasn’t anywhere for me to sit but you said—”

“—you can sit on my lap,” Jefferson finished as the memory grew sharper in his mind. He knew he’d harbored no feelings for Madison at that time but his need to protect Madison who had started high school that year was at its peak. He’d grown to take just as much comfort from Madison as his then-best friend did from him. He was one of the few that saw Madison as a peer and not a child. “That made your entire year, didn’t it?”

Madison nodded.

Jefferson kissed his cheek. “It made mine, too. Having you close as always made me feel better and complete.”

“Same, T.” Madison set aside his empty plate and snuggled close to him. “Wine?”

Jefferson agreed.

The night lengthened as they drank, talked, and finished off the rest of the cupcakes.

Before they fell asleep, Jefferson retrieved a small box from his dresser. “You need a ring, too, Jemmy.” He slipped the silver band with a purple stone in the center on Madison’s slender finger. “I can’t let anyone take you away from me.”

“No one will,” Madison promised.

They both fell asleep a minute later.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to celebrate.

Sunlight streamed in through the two windows. Jefferson rolled over and found Madison’s spot empty. He wrapped his arms around his fiancé’s pillow and breathed in his scent. 

Madison stood in the kitchen eating cereal at the counter and scrolling on his phone.

Jefferson rolled on his back and covered his eyes with his arm. “How are you functioning? You drank as much as I did and you’re tiny.”

“I’m younger,” Madison replied.

“But you have no body fat.”

“You’re getting old,” Madison insisted and shoveled in a mouthful of cereal.

Jefferson dragged himself up and checked his phone. A missed call from Angelica and a text from Hamilton.

“I told my mom,” Madison said, a gentle grin on his face. “She wants to have us over for dinner Sunday night. She wants your family to come, too, so you better tell your mom.”

“Okay.” Jefferson rubbed his eyes and returned the smile.

“I told Alex, too. He wants to go out for dinner.”

“That explains his text,” Jefferson said. He got off the bed and showed Madison the emoticons Hamilton had sent of a whip and a ring.

“He’s right,” Madison said.

“Oh, I know I’m whipped.” Jefferson bent down and brushed Madison’s hair out of the way and kissed his neck. “What do you want to do today?”

“Shopping?” Madison tilted his head back to look at him with hopeful eyes.

“You realize I’m broke, right?” Jefferson tapped his nose.

“I have my dad’s credit card,” Madison replied with a shrug.

“Yeah, no, babe.”

“I don’t want to stay in all day,” he whined and turned to face his fiancé.

Jefferson stifled a yawn. “You have too much energy when you’re healthy.”

“Because I have to make up for the time I lose when sick.” He trailed a finger down Jefferson’s chest.

“We could go to the park?” he suggested. That was free at least.

Madison frowned.

“I’ll push you on the swings.”

Madison’s face brightened. “Okay.”

Jefferson kissed him again and headed into the bathroom to shower. He decided to multitask and make use of his waterproof phone case and return Angelica’s call from the shower. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I had some questions for you about work,” she said. She had gotten a temp job at Reynold’s firm at Jefferson’s suggestion. “What’s that sound?”

“Oh, um, I’m in the shower.”

“Thanks for that image.”

“FYI I’m off the market completely now.” Jefferson grabbed his soap bottle. “Jemmy proposed.”

“Oh, my God!” Angelica gushed. “That’s awesome! Congrats.”

“Thanks.” Jefferson grinned and managed to splash soapy water in his mouth. “Um, I was hoping you’d do me the honor of being my best woman, or whatever term you want to create for that.”

“Aww, T!” Angelica exclaimed. “Yes!”

Jefferson smiled. “What were your questions?”

The questions were quick and he soon tossed his phone out on the bathroom rug and finished rinsing. He grabbed a towel, dried off and opened the door.

Madison lounged on the bed still on his phone.

“You ever get bored of that thing?” Jefferson asked as he closed the curtains.

“Nope.” Madison kept his eyes on the small screen.

Jefferson found some clothes and tossed them on the bed. He threw his towel at Madison.

Madison tossed it aside.

“What did you find that’s so interesting?” Jefferson asked as he pulled on a pair of cargo shorts.

Madison moved closer to him and stood on the bed. “Cats.” He rested his hand against Jefferson’s bare shoulder.

Jefferson rolled his eyes at the cat memes. “I’m glad you’re entertained.”

“We are getting a cat at some point, right?” Madison stroked the back of his neck.

“Yes, as long as it’s not racist like Washington’s rat dog.”

“We’ll get a kitten.” Madison dropped down on the bed and turned back to his phone.

Jefferson finished dressing and called his mom while he poured himself a glass of milk. “Hey, Mom.”

“Is everything alright?” Mrs. Jefferson asked.

“Can’t I just call to say hello?”

“Well, you never do...”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Jem and I got engaged last night.”

Silence filled the line for a few agonizing seconds.

“Thomas, I’m so happy for you!” Mrs. Jefferson sniffled. “We’ll have to celebrate.”

“The Madison’s want to have dinner Sunday night,” Jefferson explained. “Would that be okay?”

“Yes, that sounds perfect. I’ll give Eleanor a call. Give my love to Jemmy.”

“Will do.” Jefferson hung up. He gulped down his milk. “Where do you want to eat tonight?”

“I want steak,” Madison said. He finally pulled himself away from his phone and joined Jefferson at the kitchen counter.

“God, you’re so expensive.” He ran his fingers through Madison’s hair.

“I have gift cards.” Madison peered up at him with a smile.

Jefferson kissed his nose. “Good. Let’s go to the park.”

The park was only a half mile away but Madison grew tired after a few blocks and Jefferson carried him on his back. He almost wished Madison weighed more so it would be an actual workout to carry him. He’d carried groceries heavier than his fiancé.

Once at the park, Madison headed for the swings.

Jefferson texted his older sisters while he pushed his fiancé, teasing them about being the first to be engaged. 

They only stayed at the park for a little bit before Jefferson suggested going back to the apartment since he was starving.

On the fourth floor, Jefferson’s across-the-hall neighbor waved at them as they passed in the hall. She often brought Jefferson homemade bread.

Jefferson pulled out things to make sandwiches and they ate around the counter. 

“Chairs would be a nice touch,” Madison commented. 

“You can sit on the counter,” Jefferson said as he texted back his sisters.

Madison pulled himself up. He grabbed Jefferson’s phone. “And you complain about me being on mine. What’re you saying about me?”

“That you’re an ass.” Jefferson snagged his phone back. “What time does Alexander want to go out for dinner?”

“Like six,” Madison said. “What can we do until then? Can we go to the bookstore?”

“I’d rather take a nap.” Jefferson stuffed the last bite of sandwich in his mouth. “I suppose, though.”

“Sweet!” Madison finished his lunch and slipped off the counter.

They headed back downstairs and to the local bookstore a few blocks away.

Madison went straight for the fantasy section while Jefferson browsed around and continued his conversation with his sisters. Not paying attention, he smacked shoulders with another customer.

“Sorry,” Jefferson mumbled.

“Jefferson?” questioned the man.

Jefferson took a better look at him. It was the security guard from work. “Yeah. I barely recognize you not in uniform.”

The man chuckled. “Could say the same for you not dressed up. You live around here?”

“Yeah.” Jefferson glanced around suddenly cautious of being seen with Madison by someone from work. “You?”

“Few blocks south. It was good to see you.”

Jefferson smiled and moved toward the fantasy section. “Saw the security guard from work,” he whispered to Madison. “Just so you’re aware.”

“Okay,” Madison said nose in a book. “Hey, can you reach some for me?” He closed the current book and pointed to the top shelf.

Jefferson had planned to head to the opposite side of the store but complied and pulled down several books. As he handed them to Madison, the security guard turned into their aisle.

“We meet again, Jefferson,” he said. He glanced around the taller guy and spotted Madison flipping through pages. “Is that junior? You guys know each other?”

“Yeah,” Jefferson admitted and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Our parents live near each other.”

“I see.” The security guard watched them.

Madison remained oblivious but Jefferson grew more uncomfortable and his shoulders tensed. What did this guy want?

“Is that how you got the job?” he asked Jefferson. “Being friendly with the Madison’s? I would have thought you’d join your late father’s firm.”

“I got the job fair and square,” said Jefferson a faint defensive growl in his tone.

“If you say so.”

Jefferson stepped into his space. “What is your issue? You’re being a dick and you need to get the fuck out of my face.”

The security guard stepped back with a shake of his head. “You’re the one in my face, boy. I hate nepotism and I know you’re deep in it.”

“Fuck off, man. It’s not your concern.” Jefferson turned away and rested a hand on Madison’s shoulder. “Ready, Jem?”

Madison handed him back the books to put on the top shelf. Jefferson obliged and sneered at the security guard as they walked past him.

“Not just a family friend, is he?” he called out. “That’s some nice bling you two have on your fingers.”

“Let him be,” Madison hissed. “Please, T.”

Jefferson’s fingers dug into Madison’s shoulder as he complied and they left the store.

“Now we’re fucked,” Jefferson spat as they headed down the street. “You’re going to have to quit, Jem.”

“Aren’t you the one more likely to get run out?” Madison questioned. “You did get the job because of my father.”

Jefferson stopped and glared at him. “Thanks, James.”

Madison rolled his eyes. “Sorry. You’re a good worker. Everyone can see that you deserve the job.”

“Thanks.” He grumbled in his throat. “I hate meddlesome people.”

“Why don’t we take that nap?” Madison suggested.

Jefferson opened the front door to the apartment complex. “Good idea.”

Inside his apartment, Jefferson kicked off his shoes and plugged in his phone. Madison set his shoes aside more proper and stretched out on the bed. His fiancé dropped next to him, face in his pillow. Madison stroked his back for a few minutes before he rolled away and closed his eyes.

He woke a little after five and stretched. Jefferson remained asleep, sprawled out, an arm hanging off the bed and drool on his face. Madison nudged him. “We should start getting ready to go.”

Jefferson wiped at his mouth, eyes still closed. “‘Kay.” He remained on the bed.

“Thomas!” Madison shook him.

“Jesus, Jemmy!” Jefferson sat up and nudged him away.

Madison grinned.

Jefferson grabbed a pillow and hit him with it.

“No time to mess around.” Madison scooted off the bed and headed into the bathroom to get ready.

Jefferson sighed and wondered why Madison couldn’t have waited until he was out of the bathroom before waking him. He opened the curtains and watched the traffic on the street below.

He jumped a few minutes later when Madison wrapped his arms around him his stomach.

“Don’t you dare,” Jefferson scolded and stopped Madison from moving his hands lower. “We have to leave soon.” He turned around and admired his fiancé’s blue velvet skirt. “You look nice.”

“Thanks. Change, please.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Can I wear jeans at least? You know Alex won’t be fancy.”

“Fine.”

Jefferson changed into jeans and a collared shirt. He made sure he had his keys, wallet, and cell phone and they headed out to his truck.

Hamilton waited for them in front of the restaurant. He embraced Madison and punched Jefferson’s arm.

“No more freedom, T,” he teased.

“Oh, I still have another year,” Jefferson said.

Hamilton had made reservations and they were seated within a few minutes. After they ordered drinks, talk about work and Washington’s lectures flowed around the table.

“So when are you getting married?” Hamilton asked as work talk dwindled and they waited expectantly for their food.

“Next fall,” Madison said. “Maybe October?” He looked at Jefferson.

“Your choice, babe.” Jefferson took a sip of his beer. “No offense, but we all know you’re the more feminine one and know this stuff better.”

Madison huffed. “It’s your wedding, too, Thomas.”

Jefferson set his hand on top of Madison completely covering it. “I’ll choose where we go on our honeymoon.”

Madison rolled his eyes. “Assuming one of our families pays for it, I’m guessing?”

“Well, duh, otherwise our only choice would be a local hotel or camping in the mountains. Not keen on either.”

“Go to Hawaii and invite me,” Hamilton said with a grin.

“I barely tolerate you,” Jefferson teased. “The last place I want you is on our honeymoon.”

The food arrived and talk vanished in favor of eating.

After finishing, Hamilton looked between them. “One of you has something to ask me, right?”

“Such as?” Jefferson feigned naivety.

“Bro…” Hamilton shook his head slowly.

“Mine!” Madison broke in. “Alexander, will you be my best man?”

Hamilton grinned. “It would be an honor, little duck.”


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgiveness

Laurens couldn’t ignore the situation between Hamilton and Lafayette for long and asked the latter out for drinks.

As soon as they met at the bar, Lafayette said, “I know why you invited me and I don’t have anything to say on the situation.”

Laurens shrugged. “I still want a drink. You?”

“Fine.”

They sat at the bar and ordered drinks and loaded nachos. Talk revolved around work. Lafayette worked retail while he had an unpaid internship for the summer. 

“Adrienne’s working at a daycare,” Lafayette said as he searched for the perfect chip. “She’s baby crazy already.”

“She has a teaching degree, right?” Laurens asked as he sipped his mixed drink.

“Yeah, and like child psychology or something.” He stuffed a chip in mouth struggled to get it down before he said. “She doesn’t understand we have no money for a baby right now and keeps insisting the time will never be just right so why wait?” Lafayette shook his head. “She’s at least agreed that we need to be married so I’m putting that off as long as I can.”

“You hets are weird,” Laurens said with a grin.

Lafayette rolled his eyes.

Once Lafayette was a few beers in, Laurens said, “Did you know Alexander and I are dating.”

Lafayette nodded as he sipped his drink. “I don’t want to lose him,” he said and the dam spilled free as Laurens had hoped. “It’s not as if I don’t get his depression and why he wanted to end it. I didn’t get to see a lot of the Stevens drama but I’ve gone through the parental tug-of-war and I know it messes you up. I’m not mad at him or Dad but it’s easier to push them away and have my own life instead of dealing with the stress and drama of Alexander’s crazy life. I want to be normal for once. I’m not a foster kid anymore. I’m through college and have a career path ahead of me. I want to put all that disconnect behind me. I want to concentrate on Adrienne and making it possible to have my own family. Don’t get me wrong, Mom and Dad have done a shit ton for me and they’ll always be my parents and I want nothing more than for them to be grandparents to my kids but I can’t keep getting sucked into the pain of Alexander’s crisis. Plus it hurts to see how much Dad dotes on him since I never received that from him. I never had Alex’s anxiety and shit and never needed that level of hand-holding. I was a lot more stable than he was from the start and never been that comfortable with touch and shit. I never needed Dad to give me the same attention he’s always given Alexander. It was hard when we were teens to see Dad give him that attention but I’ve grown up and understand why and that he still cares about me even if he’s never had to focus his entire existence on my mental health. I want to not deal with drama for once. It’s easier to push Alexander away even though it breaks my heart.” He stared at his beer, almost panting.

“Well,” Laurens mumbled and swallowed the last mouthful of his third drink. “You probably should tell Washington. I know you don’t want to deal with Alex’s drama but he’s pretty upset that you can’t talk to him anymore. It really hurt him that you said he wasn’t your brother.”

Lafayette flagged down the bartender for a shot of whiskey. “I know. I’ve never been good with dealing with his emotions. He’s dramatic, John, so dramatic.”

Laurens smiled and picked up his drink. “I know. I think it’s adorable.”

Lafayette swallowed back his shot. “You’ve thought that since the day you first met him. We were all sure the two of you were going to end up naked on the couch. I’m glad you two have been able to get through together all the shit life has thrown at both of you. I wish I had been better able to help.”

Laurens patted Lafayette’s back. “You’ve been there for us in your own way. I won’t hold this current stupidity against you as long as you tell Washington and apologize to Alex.”

“I will, I promise.”

“You’re a decent man, Laffy.” Laurens picked at the last bits of food. “I’m glad I don’t have to fight you for men. That’s why some people are straight, I s’pose. Less competition. Adrienne’s nice. She’d make a good lesbian.”

“You are so wasted.” Lafayette tugged Laurens’ ponytail. “I’ll call you an uber.”

“What ‘bout you?” Laurens leaned against him.

“I’ll call Adrienne.” He pushed Laurens off. “You’re a sloppy drunk, aren’t you?”

“I love you.”

“Uh huh.”

***

They made it home safely and Lafayette texted his mom the next day to ask when Washington and Hamilton would be home. He headed over in the afternoon after Hamilton’s therapy session.

When Washington and Hamilton returned to Mount Vernon, Lafayette waited for them in the kitchen. “Hey, Dad, Alexander.”

“Good to see you, Lafayette,” Washington said as he searched his younger son’s face for an indication of his intentions.

Hamilton speed walked between them but Lafayette grabbed his wrist.

He instantly regretted it as his fingers closed around Hamilton’s bracelet and he was hit with the reality of the whole mess. But it made it easier for the words to spill out from his heart. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I do respect you and you are my brother. When I was in the hospital with you, I didn’t know what to do. I’d never been so scared in my life. I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t _want_ to handle it. It was easier to flee. I was the selfish one. I’m really sorry.”

Hamilton stared at Lafayette’s hand still on his wrist, then at his brother’s face and his shimmering eyes. “I forgive you.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I probably would have done the same and I’m sorry, too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Lafayette pulled him close. “You’re my little lion, okay? Forever.”

Hamilton wrapped his arms around Lafayette’s neck. “Thank you.”

Lafayette lifted him up and squeezed him tight. He caught sight of his dad’s teary face. “I’m sorry to you, too, Dad.” He kept his hold on his brother. “You didn’t deserve me acting like you’re never been there for me. I wanted nothing more than to have a family my whole life and then I was willing to throw it all away because I didn’t want to deal with the reality of having people I love. You gave me a home, Dad. A brother, a family, I—” He faltered as tears spilled down his cheeks.

Washington wrapped his arms around both his boys. “You’re forgiven, Laf.” He pressed his head against Lafayette’s. “You’re a good man. I’m very proud of you.”

Hamilton lifted his head up. “What about me?”

Washington found a smile through his tears. “You’re a good boy, Alexander W. Hamilton.”

A grin stretched across Hamilton’s face. “You’re the best dad.”

A loud throat clearing broke apart the hug. “I’m glad toxic masculinity doesn’t exist in our house,” Mrs. Washington said, “but the three of you cry more than Anna does.” She smiled. “I’m glad everything is resolved. Lafayette, have you told them your other announcement?”

Lafayette cleared his throat. “Adrienne and I—well mostly, Adrienne—decided on a date for the wedding. February, Valentine’s Day weekend. We would like to have the ceremony here at Mount Vernon.”

Washington wiped his eyes. “I couldn’t think of a better place for it.”

Hamilton clapped his hands. “Baby Lafayette’s!”

Lafayette chuckled. “I want you to be one of my groomsmen’s, Alexander. Will you do me the honor?”

Hamilton bounced on his toes. “Of course!”

As the boys chattered about the wedding, Washington held his wife close. “I’ve decided we are good parents, but mostly because we have the best children.”

“Goodness, George Washington, you are a sappy fellow.” Mrs. Washington kissed him. “But I believe you are correct.”


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family dinner and a promotion.

On Sunday, the boys headed to Montpelier in the afternoon. Mr. and Mrs. Madison greeted them with long hugs.

“We’re so happy for you.” Mrs. Madison held Madison tight and kissed his forehead.

Madison hugged her back. “Thanks, Mom.”

Mr. Madison looked Jefferson up and down. “I’d give you a stern talk but we’ve seen how well you take care of Jemmy.” He offered his hand to Jefferson.

Jefferson shook it. “Thanks, sir.” He smiled at Madison who returned it with soft eyes.

Jefferson’s mom and siblings soon arrived and the house filled with noise. Food was set out and plates filled. The adults and oldest children sat at the long dining room table. The younger children, mostly from the Madison clan sat at a smaller table nearby.

“Have you set a date?” asked Jane, Jefferson’s eldest sister.

“Sometime in October,” Jefferson said.

“Oh, that’s going to be perfect,” gushed Mary, the second oldest Jefferson siblings. “Have you thought of a theme? What are your colors?”

Jefferson gave Madison a bewildered look.

Madison smirked. “I have some ideas. Lilacs for sure and I think Thomas would look amazing in a suit that color.”

“Hell, no, Jem,” Jefferson said. “I would look stupid.”

“You look perfect in everything,” Madison countered. “Shades of purple are, like, your best color, and you never wear it.”

Jefferson rubbed his neck. “You know I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I know.”

He nudged his fiancé. “That almost sounded like a threat.”

“It is,” Ambrose spoke up. “We don’t mess around in this family.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” said Jefferson. “You guys are quite frightening despite all being super tiny.”

The older Madison siblings grinned at each other. Although, at 5’4, Madison was shorter than his younger teenage brothers.

“Have you thought of a venue?” Mrs. Madison asked.

“Not yet,” Madison said. “Just let us know our budget.” He gave a saucy grin.

“As if we weren’t expecting that,” Mr. Madison teased. “We’ll let you boys know.”

Talk shifted away from the wedding and to summer plans. As second helpings were finished and the afternoon grew later, Madison fell quiet.

Jefferson watched him knowing the slumped shoulders and drooped mouth all too well as his Sunday night depression over Monday’s return. He stroked Madison’s arm. “You only have to work three days this week,” he tried to soothe.

Madison shrugged.

Jefferson pushed his chair back and patted his lap. Madison sat on him and rubbed his arm.

“How’s the job going, Thomas?” Mr. Madison asked.

“It’s good, sir,” Jefferson said. “Um, Reynolds asked me if I’d consider staying on after I return to school.”

 Mr. Madison pursed his lips. “Well, that would be good for you. However, I know a junior paralegal position will be opening soon at Reynold’s firm. I would rather you apply for that than stay in your current position if you think you can handle work and school. I can give my recommendation.”

Jefferson sat up straighter, jostling Madison. Screw nepotism, he needed that job. “I would really appreciate it. Thank you.”

Mr. Madison nodded with a smile.

The younger Madison children served dessert and everyone dug into their chocolate cake.

“We could afford a kitten then,” Madison murmured.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Jefferson replied. He scraped some frosting off his cake and added it to Madison’s piece.

Dishes were left to clean up later and the two families went outside to enjoy the cooling summer evening.

Madison sat with the three oldest Jefferson sisters who ranged from his age to twenty-six. Mary ran her fingers through his long hair and played with it, braiding and unbraiding it.

“Remember, James,” Jane said, “we know all T’s weaknesses so if you ever need to bring him down, let us know.”

Madison nodded.

“We’ll make sure he wears the lilac suit,” Mary said.

“Have him start growing his hair out a little longer,” Marty J added. “It looks better.”

Madison nodded again. He looked at his fiancé chasing the younger children around. He scooped up Bess and spun her around.

“Do you guys think you’ll adopt or do surrogacy?” Jane asked.

“I don’t think so,” Madison said. “We’re going to get a kitten.”

Marty J squealed. “We’ll have a kitten shower,” she said. She squeezed Madison’s hand.

“Oh, let’s see your ring.” Mary nudged her sister aside.

Madison held up his hand and let the purple stone catch the fading sunlight.

“It’s so perfect for you,” Mary said.

“The bigger question,” Jane said, “is whose name are you taking?”

“Jefferson,” Madison said. “But I haven’t told Thomas yet. I know he’s going to suggest hyphenating but our surnames don’t go very well together.”

The girls all hugged him.

“What’d I miss?” Jefferson asked. He dropped panting onto the grass next to them while little Madison children climbed on him.

“You know how much we adore your fiancé, right?” Mary said.

“Yeah, you like him more than me, I know.” Jefferson grabbed Bess and set her on his shoulders. Pint-sized eight-year-old Sarah collapsed in his lap. Bess buried her little hands deep in Jefferson’s crinkly afro.

“Duh,” Marty J said.

The sibling chatted a little longer before it was time to head home. Jefferson shook himself free of tiny children and took his fiancé’s hand. “Coming or staying?”

“I’m going to stay,” Madison said. “Is that okay?”

Jefferson kissed his fingers. “Of course, babe. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Madison held out his arms until Jefferson picked him up. He wrapped his legs around Jefferson’s waist. They kissed long and soft, oblivious to their siblings watching and making faces.

The next morning, Jefferson watched the clock as Madison’s arrival time drew near. He stashed some of Madison’s favorite candy in his desk as an attempt to make the day tolerable.

Madison arrived a few minutes late. His shoulders drooped and he stared at his feet. He clocked in and took his seat.

Jefferson stared at him until he glanced over. There was an unusual blush to his cheeks as if he might be feverish.

 _Are you okay?_ Jefferson mouthed.

Madison shrugged.

Jefferson didn’t have a chance to check on him further as Greene dropped a stack of papers on his desk. “How was your weekend?” he asked. “Big parties?”

“Family dinner,” Jefferson mumbled. His hand strayed to his chest where his engagement ring rested underneath his shirt on a chain. He couldn’t tell if Madison was wearing his or not.

“Do you have a big family?”

Jefferson wished he knew what his supervisor’s goal was in his sudden interest. “I have seven siblings.”

“Dang, man.”

Jefferson gave a strained smile. His eyes flickered toward Madison and he saw his fiancé pulling at his shirt. Was he nervous or feverish? He had to look back at his supervisor and pretend to listen to the story of his weekend. Worst of all, he shifted and blocked Madison from Jefferson’s view.

“I’ll need these done by noon.” Greene tapped the papers and Jefferson realized he’d finished his tale.

“Yes, sir,” Jefferson said.

Greene turned around and exclaimed, “What the heck is he doing?”

Jefferson stood at once and saw that Madison had taken off his shirt. His face was flushed red and his eyes had an unfocused glazed look.

Screw keeping their relationship secret, Jefferson hurried around his desk and stopped Madison before he could drop his pants. “Jem, can you hear me?”

Madison’s glassy eyes remained unfocused and he swayed.

“You’re delirious,” Jefferson muttered half-talking to himself. “I need to get you cooled down.” He grabbed Madison’s clothes and picked him up.

Greene stepped in front of him. “Care to explain?”

“He has a fever and if it gets any higher he’ll seize,” Jefferson said glaring at his superior.

“How do you know that?” Greene crossed his arms.

He didn’t want to deal with another person at work knowing their relationship. “I’ve known him forever.” He moved around his supervisor and headed for the bathroom.

He hated to, but he set Madison on the bathroom floor, the cool tiles against his skin. He soaked a bunch of paper towels and lay them on his face and chest. Jefferson pulled out his phone and called Mrs. Madison.

“A fever, isn’t it?” she said at once.

“Yes,” Jefferson said as he stared at his fiancé and watched for each breath.

“I knew he looked off, but he insisted… I’m on my way.”

“Okay.” Jefferson wrapped a wet paper towel around Madison’s neck. “He’s not seizing.”

“Good,” Mrs. Madison said. “But if he does, call an ambulance.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jefferson hung up.

The bathroom door opened and Greene came in. “How is he?”

“A high fever,” Jefferson said. “His mom is going to take him to the hospital.” He chewed on his lip as he checked Madison’s pulse.

“You should have said something about knowing him.”

Jefferson glanced at the man he knew was a former Washington foster child. “Nepotism.” He could feel his own temperature rising as panic set in over losing his job and Madison being sick again.

“Yes, it definitely wasn’t because of your high GPA and the glowing recommendation from George Washington.” Greene didn’t hide his sarcasm. “You don’t have much confidence in yourself, do you, Thomas?”

Jefferson rubbed his neck. “I—I…”

“Once junior is taken care of, come upstairs. I would like to chat with you and Reynolds.”

Jefferson struggled to swallow. “Yes, sir.”

The supervisor stepped out of the bathroom.

Jefferson pushed all his fears aside and checked his phone. Mrs. Madison should arrive any minute. He dressed Madison and kept wet towels against his face and neck.

Mrs. Madison texted when she was out front. Jefferson carried Madison out and felt the stares of his co-workers.

“You look ill yourself, Thomas,” Mrs. Madison said as Jefferson settled Madison in the front seat.

“I-I’m fine,” Jefferson stuttered. “Tex-text me.” He closed the car door and hurried back inside. He tried to breathe but his heart insisted on thundering in his chest and his legs shook. He knocked on Reynold’s door.

“Enter.”

Greene was already inside and seated before Reynolds’ desk.

“Sit, Jefferson.”

Jefferson staggered to the second chair.

“Thank you for seeing to junior,” Reynolds said. “I suspect you’ve heard that a junior paralegal position will be opening soon?”

“Yes.” Jefferson clenched his folded hands together.

“Would you like to start that position today?”

Jefferson’s mouth went dry and he stared at the boss. “Um…” Was this a joke?

“Greene has had only good things to say about you. Do you want to move upstairs or not, Jefferson?”

Jefferson glanced at his supervisor. “Yes.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Sir.”

“Good. You’ll have an assistant. Junior can work under you to keep his hours until we find a better position for him. Would that work for you?”

Jefferson nodded unable to believe any of this. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We need good men in the department.” He shook Jefferson’s hand. “Why don’t you clean out your old desk and move into your new office.”

Jefferson fought a smile. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” He stood and hurried out but waited for Greene. His legs still shook and his heart pounded but now from excitement and adrenaline.

After a few minutes, Greene left the office and offered his hand to Jefferson. “I know I’ve been hard on you but know I did it to push you to your potential.”

Jefferson shook his hand. “Thank you.”

“How is Washington?” They headed downstairs together.

“Still crazy,” Jefferson said with a smile.

Green snorted. “He and Martha are still fostering?”

As he packed up his desk, Jefferson told him about the crowd at Mount Vernon

“Dear Lord,” Green muttered. “I was one of three for a while when I lived there and thought they were insane then. Girls and a baby now? Damn.”

“And his son,” Jefferson added. “You’ve never had the pleasure to meet Alexander.”

Greene raised an eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling it’s not a real pleasure?”

Jefferson chuckled. “You saw right through that, did you?” He let Greene take his box of crap while he grabbed Madison’s lunch bag and discovered his loafers on the floor. He picked up the tiny shoes and headed upstairs behind Greene.

Angelica met him in the hallway as Greene continued on to the office.

“Did you hear?” Jefferson said with a wide grin.

“Well, I heard I was getting a new boss,” she said returning his smile.

“What?” He blinked.

“I’m your assistant, stupid.”

“Oh, dear, God.” Jefferson’s eyes widened. “I think I’ll head back downstairs…,” he teased.

Angelica grabbed his arm. “This should be fun.” She paused. “Why are you carrying children’s shoes?”

“Oh, um, those are Jem’s.”

Angelica took the shoes. “Shit, his feet are tiny.” A grin spread across her face.

Jefferson glared at her, as he understood her correlation. “He’s perfect the way he is.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes.

Angelica stepped into their office. It was tiny with a single narrow window. Two desks faced each other with barely enough room for a chair between them. Filing cabinets were parked in the corners and in dire need of the tops dusted.

“It’s cozy,” Greene said as he watched them attempt to maneuver through the cramped room.

 “A slight understatement,” Jefferson said but a smile claimed his face. He set Madison’s stuff on the bare desk—his desk.

Greene clapped him on the shoulder and left.

“Were you ever in the closet?” Angelica asked.

“Huh?” Jefferson raised an eyebrow at her.

“Just wondering if you were and if this was comparable.”

“Oh, God, you’re unbearable.” Jefferson moved around to sit at his desk.

Angelica stared at him from her own desk a few feet away. “I think this is going to be fun, Thomas.”

“I disagree,” said Jefferson his tone too serious not to be fake. “But we’ll see what happens.”

Angelica flicked a pen at him.

Jefferson deflected as his phone dinged with a text. He quickly pulled up Mrs. Madison’s message. “Jem’s fever broke,” he said.

“That’s good,” Angelica said. She flung another pen at him.

“Come on,” Jefferson scolded. “We have work to do.”


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playdate

“Eleanor is going to bring Reuben over today to play with Todd,” Mrs. Washington told Dolley.

The teen remained in bed scrolling through her phone that Washington had returned. He hadn’t wanted to but realized it was her best means of keeping in contact with her friends and the importance of that.

“I’m sure Todd will enjoy seeing another baby.”

“Sure. Whatever,” Dolley said without looking up. “Not sure what the point it. He doesn’t do anything.”

“Babies need stimulation.” She watched the teen. “You could use some yourself.”

“Nope.” Dolley pulled the blankets over her head.

With a sigh, Mrs. Washington left her alone and returned downstairs to where Hamilton was giving Todd a bottle. He’d been switched to formula since Dolley claimed her breast milk had dried up.

Anna sat on the floor nearby playing with the doll Washington had gotten her off eBay. She had a whole wardrobe courtesy of Mrs. Washington.

“May I ask a question?” Hamilton said when he spotted his mom.

“Of course.” Mrs. Washington stroked Todd’s fine hair.

“If Dolley decides not to keep Todd, would you and Dad adopt him?” He looked up at her.

Mrs. Washington watched the two boys and wished Hamilton had given her a warning on the type of question. “I don’t know, dear,” she scrambled for words. “Dad and I aren’t exactly young. We’d be in our seventies by the time Todd is eighteen.”

Hamilton nodded and didn’t push the issue.

***

When Mrs. Madison and Reuben arrived, Mrs. Washington had to drag Dolley downstairs and make her sit on the floor with her son.

“I’ll make tea,” Mrs. Washington said and left the mom’s and babies alone.

Reuben babbled and drooled as he scooted himself closer to Todd, excited at someone smaller than himself.

“How is everything going?” Mrs. Madison asked.

Dolley shrugged and returned to her phone.

“I had a hard time with my first child, too.” Mrs. Madison watched the disconnected teen. “I was young and overwhelmed and I was older than you and married. I can’t even imagine the stress you’re under. It didn’t help that Jemmy was always sick.” She stopped Reuben from sucking on Todd’s shirt. “I thought I was a bad mother and not taking care of him properly. I grew depressed and didn’t know what to do.” She saw Dolley’s eyes flicker toward her and continued. “I was diagnosed with mild postpartum depression. Knowing that what I was feeling wasn’t wrong and that it didn’t make me a bad mother helped a lot. It got better once I found people I could talk to and rely on. Martha is an amazing mother and she will help you if you let her.”

“Depression like you didn’t like your baby?” Dolley asked. She glanced at Todd as he attempted to grab his toes.

Mrs. Madison nodded. “Jemmy scared me so much as a newborn. I thought that my touching and feeding him was making him sick and I didn’t want to be around him anymore. He made me sad.”

Dolley set her phone aside. “That’s how I feel about Todd. Like everything I do for him is wrong and he’s better off if someone else takes care of him. I get mad at him and then I get mad at myself and just want to stay in bed.”

Mrs. Madison touched her hand. “Tell Martha. She can help you see a doctor and discuss your options. You don’t deserve to feel sad because of your baby. He’s a very nice baby and I know you’re a good mom to him.”

“I could be better,” Dolley mumbled. She watched her son wave his fists in the air while Reuben bounced on his bottom.

“You will be when you don’t feel so alone.”

Dolley nodded. “Thanks.” She scooped up Todd and cradled him on her lap. “He’s getting so big,” she marveled as the baby smiled and laughed, drool spilling down his chubby chin.

“They grow up much too fast.” Mrs. Madison grabbed Reuben before he scooted under the coffee table. “This little tank is starting to explore and you will be surprised how fast a barely mobile baby can move.”

A smile crept up Dolley’s lips.

“Jemmy was such a calm baby,” Mrs. Madison continued, “that when Frank learned to crawl, it was a shock. He could be across the room before I knew he’d even moved. I tell you, babies will always find anything to put in their mouth or nose. I don’t know how many times I called Martha to ask her how to, again, get a marble or cheerio out of a baby’s nose. All the boys, except Jemmy, managed that and I never knew we had marbles in the house.”

Dolley giggled. “Todd wouldn’t do that.”

“Doesn’t he have Alexander as a role model?” Mrs. Madison teased.

A smile lit up Dolley’s face. “True.”

A relieved Mrs. Washington brought in the tea tray and cookies. She smiled at Dolley and received a genuine one back. It had taken some time to understand the teen and her needs but Mrs. Washington was certain they could now get her the help she needed.

 

A doctor appointment was made for the following week. The doctor prescribed antidepressants for Dolley and gave her a list to look into of classes and groups for young mothers. With Mrs. Washington’s help, she enrolled in a mother-and-baby playgroup and therapeutic-type club for young mothers from troubled backgrounds.

As Mrs. Washington drove her home from the club a few weeks later, Dolley said, “I know I’ve been difficult and I can’t exactly blame everything on being depressed but I want you to know that I will try harder now.” She studied her chewed-up fingernails. “I’m used to acting out to get attention and I now realize that you and George will listen to me and I don’t need to act like that. I’m really sorry for causing you and George a lot of stress.”

“I forgive you, dear,” Mrs. Washington said. She patted Dolley’s hand as she waited at a stoplight. “I wish I’d recognized your symptoms sooner.”

Dolley shrugged. “You’ve never had a teen mom in your house before. But you’ve had a lot of unruly kids and I don’t blame you for thinking I was just being a turd.” She chewed on her lip. “I’m really sorry I’ve been unkind to Alexander.” She bowed her head. “He’s the only one who made me feel normal and I wanted his attention.”

“That did hurt all of us,” Mrs. Washington said. “You need to respect him.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once at Mount Vernon, Dolley sought out Washington and apologized to him. She then did the same to Hamilton.

“I hurt you and disrespected you,” she said while Hamilton cuddled Potato and Noodle on his lap. “I’m really sorry I invaded your privacy.”

Hamilton nodded. “I don’t know if I can accept your apology just yet.”

“I understand.” She ran her hand over the fabric on the couch, worn from many dogs sleeping and burrowing in it. “I know you were excited to have a sister and I regret that I didn’t live up to your expectations.”

Noodle licked Hamilton’s face and he smiled at the Dachshund. “We’ll try again. Dad preaches forgiveness and multiple chances. I want to be like him.”

“You are, in my opinion,” Dolley said. “You’re a good friend, Alexander.” She stood and tucked back her hair. “I really appreciate everything you do for Todd.”

A faint smile touched Hamilton’s lips. “You’re welcome.”


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tench

“Did you get the mail?” Washington asked his son as the door to his office opened.

Hamilton held a letter in his hand. “Yeah.”

Washington removed his reading glasses. “Who’s that from?”

A few steps took him to the desk and he held out the letter. “Tench Tilghman. How do you know him?”

A frown creased Washington’s forehead. “Is there a problem?”

“I knew a Tench Tilghman when I was in foster care,” Hamilton said and stared at the letter addressed to Washington with a return address in South Carolina. “I can’t imagine there is another one in the world.”

“Tench was our foster son,” Washington said and pulled the letter from Hamilton’s hand. “When did you know him?”

Hamilton took his usual seat and tucked a leg beneath him, his thoughts a million miles away. “Right after I went into care. He took care of me and helped me get my head on straight before I murdered someone. I was so angry and confused.” Tench also protected him from an abusive foster parent but that was harder to disclose.

“Tench was one of our favorites.” Washington opened his desk drawer before he remembered his letter opener was locked in his safe. He tore open a short side and pulled out the folded paper. “He came to us at fifteen—it must have been a year after you met him. His parents were in the middle of an ugly divorce and used Tench to get what they wanted from each other. Social services intervened after a lawyer saw them screaming at and hitting Tench to make him decide who he wanted to live with.”

“Wow. He never really told me why he was in foster care.” Hamilton guessed it was because his own problems had been so numerous. “But he was always happy. We were in the same house for about four months before I had to move.” He picked at his chin and wished the mental image of the foster dad pulling off his belt would leave his mind.

“He was a good boy,” Washington agreed. “His paternal grandparents lived in England and didn’t know about the divorce until Tench was in foster care. They sold everything and moved to New York to fight for custody of him. It was brutal. Mom and I had to speak to several lawyers to get contact with the parents cut since all they did during visits from torture the boy.”

Hamilton listened quietly, saddened that he had never known this. He’d only known Tench as a curly-headed optimistic who stood up for all the smaller kids.  

Washington continued as he unfolded the letter and found three pictures. “We helped Tench get a restraining order against his parents but they found every loophole possible to get in sight of him. School was the worst and they’d show up and spew abusive. It got so bad, we pulled him from school and homeschooled him.” A smile touched his face as he examined the pictures: two of dogs and the third of Tench and both dogs. “His grandparents received custody of him when he was about seventeen. They were very grateful to Mom and me for fighting so hard to protect Tench. Another foster home had kicked him out unable to handle the parents. As soon as the grandparents could, they moved him across the country to Las Vegas, though they must have since moved. The day the parents lost custody, the dad shot the mom and then himself.”

“Wow,” Hamilton repeated. “Makes my family story not seem so twisted.”

“It was the worst foster situation Mom and I dealt with.” Washington handed the pictures to Hamilton. “According to Tench’s letter, the tan and white dog is a border collie and Australian shepherd mix named Quincy and the black curly dog is Tig.”

“Tench still looks the same,” Hamilton said with a grin. Same reddish-brown curls, freckled face, and toothy smile.

“Indeed.” Washington turned his attention to the letter that started _Dear Dad_.

 _I’m sorry I haven’t written to you in so long_ , it continued. _It’s been almost five years, I believe. But a day doesn’t go by that I haven’t thought of you or Mom. I finished trade school and work as a mechanic for a Chevy dealership here. I enjoy it a lot and the pay is good. I still live at home to help my grandparents out around the house and keep them company. Plus that gives me extra cash to spoil Quincy and Tig! I don’t imagine old Marquis or Mugsley are still around but if they are, give them a kiss for me._

The letter continued to ask how they were and if they still fostered. He said they had moved back to the east coast six months ago since his grandparents couldn’t handle the dry heat anymore. He wrote more about his dogs, whom he’d rescued from a local shelter.

_I will be in New York this fall and would love to see you and Mom. It’s been too long and the ache to see you has only grown stronger._

He finished up with more information about his upcoming visit and ended the letter _Your forever son, Tench._

“You and Tench always had a lot in common,” Washington said as he wiped at his right eye. “Tugging at my heartstrings is number one.” He swapped the letter for the pictures and resumed looking at them. If Tench’s grandparents hadn’t been amazing people and fought hard for their grandson, he knew he and his wife would have adopted Tench. They still sent him a long letter every year at Christmas—which was also his birthday—despite not hearing from him for years.

Hamilton finished reading the letter and handed it back. “Do you think he would remember me?”

“I’m sure he would.” Washington smiled at him. “You’re hard to forget.”

Once Hamilton left the office, Washington began his reply. He voiced his excitement over Tench’s visit and how glad he was to hear of his job and the dogs. He wondered how to mention Hamilton, though. Tench had known of the Washington’s interest in adopting him. Although Tench had never been one to hold grudges or resentment, he’d never voiced an opinion on that not working out. Would he care that Washington had found a surrogate son to adopt in his stead? Probably not, and Washington knew he was overly sensitive to slighting his boys after Lafayette’s displeasure.

In the last paragraph, he wrote, _Mom and I are, indeed, still fostering (two girls!) and have adopted a son. You may remember him from a brief stay together—Alexander Hamilton. He says you helped him adjust to care. He became our foster son when he was seventeen and we adopted him two years ago. He’s eager to see you again, too._

He finished the letter and sought out his wife for her to read it and add her own reply.

“It’s a relief to know he’s well,” Mrs. Washington said as she stared at the pictures. “The special ones are hard to let go of.”

“Exactly why we adopted Alexander,” Washington said and wrapped his arms around her. “It’ll be good to see Tench again.” He squeezed her shoulders and returned downstairs. In his locked filing cabinet, he found Tench’s old file and the journal he’d kept to record how Tench adjusted and any concerns. While not as extensive as the one he’d kept during Hamilton’s foster stay, it was, otherwise, his most documented foster son. Entries about family visits and everything he did to keep Tench safe filled most of the pages. In between were the lengthy ramblings of his doubts and fears of whether Tench would be okay and if they were doing enough for him. Then there were the lines that made everything better: when Tench started calling him Dad, when Tench opened up and confided to him, when he let himself be vulnerable. But then there was the heartbreak, his last entry: _Tench is in Las Vegas now. God speed, my boy, please don’t forget us._

“Dad?” The office door opened again. “Are you still in here?”

Washington set the journal back in the drawer. “Reminiscing.”

Hamilton came over and glanced at the journal on top of a stack of papers. “You have a whole drawer of my crap, don’t you?”

“Indeed.” Washington closed the filing cabinet and stood. He drew Hamilton close.

“Will you ever let me read the notes you kept on me?” Hamilton asked, head tilted back to see his dad’s face.

“Not likely,” Washington said as he watched those intense blue-violet eyes.

“Why?”

Washington let go of him and said teasingly, “Because you were a brat when you first came here.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “You didn’t need to sleep anyway.”

“I still haven’t, my boy.” He locked the filing cabinet and pocketed the key. He guided Hamilton out of the office. “When you have kids of your own, Alexander, write everything down, the good and bad. Pictures are great but your own words can put things into perspective later on if things become rough. And they’re a reminder when things are good and why you fight for your family every day.”

Hamilton nodded. “I’ll do that. You’re an amazing dad.”

“Thank you, Alexander.” Washington kissed his head. “I’m blessed to have you as my son.”


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Angelica

“Stop throwing things at me,” Jefferson complained after Angelica flung a rubber band at him.

“Stress relief,” Angelica replied.

They’d been slammed with work right from the start and, with little guidance, struggled to find their footing. But their “assistant” caused the most problems and resulted in lost time each day to deal with his messes. It wasn’t entirely his fault, though, as every other employee in the firm found it entertaining to torture him.

The all too familiar thump and fluttering of paper sounded outside the office door.

With a sigh, Jefferson got out of his chair and opened the door to find Madison scrambling to gather the papers knocked from his hands.

“Sorry,” Madison said, “I was bumped.”

Jefferson helped him pick up everything. “I know it’s not your fault.” The carefully organized papers were all a mess again. There wasn’t room in the tiny office for Madison to spread out the papers to put in order, hence this almost daily occurrence.

“I don’t like working here,” Madison mumbled as tears gathered in his eyes at the prospect of redoing all his work.

“I’ll find you a different job,” Jefferson promised. It would be better to keep Madison away from that nosey security guard anyway. He was glad Angelica walked out with him as the man had tried to touch Jefferson one day. If he’d go after a 6’2, muscular man, he’d easily be able to hurt Madison.

Madison nodded and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He returned to the break room with his papers to reorganize.

Back in his office, Jefferson found a missed call on his cell from Greene. Too annoyed, he sent him a text instead.

Greene replied with, _Come see me._

“I get to take home all my work today,” Jefferson grouched as he left the office again. He found Green downstairs and waited while he dealt with another issue.

“I apologize for drawing you away from your work,” Greene said. He rested a hand against Jefferson’s back and steered him toward an empty conference room.

“Wasn’t getting anything done anyway.” Jefferson grimaced at his own bitter tone. “Sorry.”

“No, I understand.” He indicated for Jefferson to sit at the long table. “Is junior looking for another job?”

“Yeah,” Jefferson said but didn’t mention that he was the one who would actually look for Madison.

“He means well, I know.” Greene leaned forward. “I know you’ve been swamped and thrown to the wolves with everything and you go back to school in a few weeks. I’ve been getting stuff arranged so I can help you more. I would hate to see you set up for failure.” He paused. “Any chance I can take you out for a beer and discuss the plan?”

“Sure,” Jefferson concurred, although he thought coffee would be a better idea as he fought back a yawn.

“Tonight?”

Jefferson agreed.

***

He met Greene at a bar fifteen minutes from his apartment.

“Do you want something to eat?” Greene asked as they sat down at a high table.

“I’m good,” Jefferson said. The sooner this was over with the better. He ordered a beer since he knew it would take him a while to drink and anything stronger would put him to sleep.

They talked about Jefferson’s law school schedule and the amount of work he’d be able to do at the firm. Greene had hired two interns to pick up the slack and unloaded some of his own work on another employee in order to give him time to help Angelica upstairs.

“You’re putting a lot of pressure on me,” Jefferson admitted after Greene coaxed him into having a stronger drink. “There’s a good chance I won’t be able to deliver to your expectations now or when I graduate.”

“Confidence, Thomas.” Greene leaned across the table to be able to hear each other. “You’re doing a good job already. It can only get better. I’m not going to lose you to another firm, especially not Madison Sr.”

A heat that he wanted to blame on the alcohol, rose up his neck at the compliment and the mention of his future father-in-law. His hand strayed to the chain around his neck and found the ring beneath his shirt. _Just tell Greene._

But the thought snapped away as Greene’s hand brushed against his. Had he missed earlier cues that Greene meant this as more than a business drink? Since he was a Washington boy, Jefferson figured the odds were good that he was LGBTQA+. Was that why he’d fought so hard to keep Jefferson around? Because he wanted favors? Why had he agreed to drink something stronger!

“You okay?” Greene’s hand touched his again, this time by no mere accident.

“It’s getting late,” said Jefferson. He was glad the noisy room covered the unease in his voice.

Greene checked the time on his phone. “I suppose.” He paid and followed Jefferson out. “Are you good to drive?”

“Yup.” Jefferson headed for his truck at a speed walk. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Thomas.”

 _Fuckfuckfuck._ Jefferson rested his forehead against the steering wheel. He was reading into this too much, he hoped, just a defect of his hyperawareness of potential sexual situations because he didn’t understand them. Once Madison was out of the firm, he’d let Greene know of his engaged status. That would put an end to any funny business. If not, then he would quit. It was bad enough skirting around the security guard; he didn’t need to avoid Greene, too. He would also tell Angelica and let her assess Greene’s behavior and give him an accurate read.

The next morning, Angelica could only laugh when a half-hungover Jefferson stumbled into the office. “Drinking on a school night, hon?” she teased.

“Ugh, shut up.” Jefferson slumped down in his seat. “I have enough problems.”

The laughter vanished from Angelica’s face. “Don’t tell me drinking is how you’re coping. Thomas—”

“No, I promise.” He massaged his forehead. “Greene invited me out for a drink to discuss the work plan. Also to hit on me, I think. I can’t deal with him and that stupid security guard.”

“Hon, I love you, but…” She tried to sound sympathetic. “If you think only two people harassing you is a problem then you do not want to hear how my day has already gone.”

Jefferson’s shoulders slumped. “Sorry. But that doesn’t make it right.”

“No, I agree but I can’t quite be the supportive ear you want.” She watched him. “We’re both minorities in many aspects but you’re still a man.”

Jefferson’s head snapped up. “So men can’t be sexually harassed, Angelica?”

“Whoa, buddy.” Angelica stood. “I didn’t mean to imply that. Never mind, okay? I’m sorry your supervisor flirted with you and the scary security guard pesters you.”

Jefferson stood as well. “Now you’re making fun of me. What the fuck, Angelica? Is it your time of the month or something?”

“You want to fight, Mr. Jefferson?” Angelica’s hand rested on her hip. “I’m down for that. It’s either you or Aaron. I need to smack someone.”

“Ah, roommate problems.” Jefferson took his seat, as he understood her agitation. “Spill.”

Angelica sat down as well. “Men are pigs.”

Jefferson sighed. “More men bashing?”

“Sorry.” She rested her forehead in her hands. “But I grew up with sisters and you, and you’re a gentleman. Aaron has issues.”

“I’m listening.” Jefferson folded his hands on his desk.

“How long does it take you to shower?” Angelica asked.

Jefferson frowned. “Um, like ten minutes. Why?”

“What about James?”

“Probably a half hour.”

“It takes Aaron an hour.” Angelica smacked her hand on the desk. “I don’t even take that long! You don’t masturbate, right?”

“This is getting really weird—”

“I know that’s what he’s doing and I appreciate it’s behind a locked door but four times a week for an hour? He needs to either fuck his boss or find someone.”

“How about we go back to my problem of being harassed versus your daily encounters with it?” Jefferson suggested tentatively. “I’ve heard too much about Aaron.”

“You’re going to hear more,” Angelica said.

“No, no, please,” Jefferson begged and pressed his hands together.

Angelica sighed. “Fine. I am sorry if I belittled your problem with Greene and the security guard. No one deserves that.”

“I’m probably overreacting anyway.” Jefferson rubbed his forehead. “I’ll do better at protecting you from creepy guys. Just tell me who needs to be threatened.”

“Thank you, T.”


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington is annoying.

As fall term for law school approached, Hamilton fretted continuously until his nightmares returned.

The all too familiar scream sent Washington out of bed and across the hall before his brain caught up to the trained response of his body. He flipped on the light. “Alex, Alexander.” Hamilton was sitting upright but his eyes were vacant, lost in his terror. “Alexander, wake up. Look at Dad.”

He blinked rapidly and covered his eyes.

“Alex?”

“I’m awake,” Hamilton mumbled.

Washington sat next to him and rubbed his son’s back. “What was the nightmare about?”

“Everything.” He shrugged off Washington’s hand and lay back down. “I want to be alone.”

“No.” The word came out a little too panicked and made Hamilton sit back up.

“Dad, I’m not going to try to kill myself again.” He searched Washington’s tired face. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Washington tried to shake off the tension in his shoulders. “I know you’re stressed about school. I don’t want you becoming depressed again. You don’t have to go to law school.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Hamilton murmured. He bunched up the blanket between his fingers.

“You can wait another year.” Washington stroked his cheek. “Maybe a part-time job would be better to ease you back out there.”

Hamilton closed his eyes at the soothing touch. “But you already paid for the term.”

“Your health is more important.”

“Would it be okay if I tried?” Hamilton chewed on his lip.

“Of course. Thomas will be there, too.”

Hamilton nodded but his face fell and he stared at the blanket.

“What’s wrong?” Washington touched his chin.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love James,” he said in a soft mumble, “but I don’t want to be like him and need my hand held every time I leave the house. I don’t want Thomas having to escort me to classes.”

Washington rubbed his hand against Hamilton’s head and said in a teasing tone, “Thomas would never put up with you like that. You’re not even close to being as coddled as Jemmy.”

Hamilton raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

With a smile, Washington held up his fingers an inch apart. “Maybe a smidge.” He kissed Hamilton’s forehead. “Get some sleep.”

The next morning, Hamilton remained in bed after everyone else was up. Washington checked on him but let him be and told Anna to play quietly and made sure Dolley didn’t let Todd wail.

“Why does Hammy get to sleep in?” Anna pouted as she finished her breakfast.

Washington drained a second cup of coffee. “He had a rough night.”

“Why?”

“He’s anxious to go to law school,” he explained.

Anna stared at her cereal. “Same. Second grade is going to be hard and I won’t know anyone.”

“Martha and I will help you,” Washington reassured. He got up to pour more coffee. It had been a long time since he and his wife had to organize multiple kids for school and they congratulated themselves on remembering the process. Anna’s public school was across town with no bus to the Estates. They enrolled her instead—with begrudging permission from her mom—in the K-8 private school all the Madison children had and still attended. Mrs. Madison would pick Anna up in the morning.

Dolley would attend online public school with Mrs. Washington keeping her on task. She’d watch Todd in the morning to allow Dolley a few interrupted hours to work.

Which left Hamilton, while he needed no transportation, remained the one who worried his parents the most. Since his last year of college had been terrible, the stress and pressure of school acted as a trigger for him. A different school with new students and teachers would help, the Washington’s hoped. He would stay at home and his course load was light with three classes on Tuesday and Thursday as his busiest days.

“I could stay home like Dolley.” Anna slipped out of her chair and tugged on Washington’s shirt. “Please?”

“Second grade is fun.” Washington petted her on the head. “Your teacher is very nice and the class will be a lot smaller than at your old school.”

Anna nodded. “I’ll try.”

“Good girl.” His phone dinged and he glanced at it on the counter ready to ignore it but the screen said _Alexander_. He fumbled to put in his password and let out the breath he’d been holding when he read, _Can John come over?_

He sent his agreement and a little tension left his body. It had been almost a week since Laurens had been over as his work schedule and Hamilton’s doctor and therapy appointments were opposite. The fact that the boys seemed to be taking their relationship slow, pleased him and hoped it would continue.

Twenty minutes later, Laurens let himself in and headed upstairs. He closed the door to Hamilton’s room and held up a coffee cup. “I know you wanted this more than to see me,” he teased.

“Nah,” Hamilton took the cup. “Unless you forgot my cinnamon roll.”

Laurens handed over the Styrofoam container and a fork.

“Thank you.” He opened the lid and licked his lips at the gooey bun.

Laurens got on the bed next to him and let him eat while he browsed on his phone and read aloud an occasional meme or post. 

When he finished eating, Hamilton cuddled close to him. 

“Anxious about law school?” Laurens asked.

Hamilton nodded. “What if I can’t do it?”

“There’s no shame in that, Alex.” Laurens rubbed his arm. “You have a four-year degree, it’s not like you won’t find a job.”

“What if I can’t work?” He chewed on his lip. “I’m afraid I’ll never amount to anything.”

Laurens took his hand and kissed it. “You have by no means peaked, babe. I know there is a lot of pressure to succeed and have your life together in your early twenties but it’s okay if you don’t. You’ll still be young at thirty. Finding yourself takes time.”

Hamilton rested his head on Laurens’ shoulder. “When did you get so smart?”

“Been doing soul-searching, too,” he said. “I have a business degree that I’m not using and I don’t want to incur more debt to get a master’s so I’ve been looking at my reality. I like being a waiter. I’m going to put in my application for a restaurant downtown that gets a lot more traffic. My boss has given me a good review and is going to put my name out there. I’d make decent money, especially if I continue to live with my aunt. I can keep on top of my loan. Maybe someday I’ll open a restaurant and put my degree to use.”

“At least you have a job and a goal,” Hamilton murmured.

“Yeah, but I didn’t have a traumatic injury and depression.” He tucked back his boyfriend’s hair. “You’ll get there, I promise, and it doesn’t have to be that crazy law career you expected.”

“Perhaps.”

“Try not to be too hard on yourself.” He kissed Hamilton’s neck. “I’ll love you no matter what as your parents will, too.”

Hamilton nodded.

“Do you have a brush?” Laurens asked as he teased his fingers through a tangle of red hair.

Hamilton got up to retrieve a brush and hair tie from the bathroom.

Laurens worked out the tangles, then continued for the soothing strokes. After a few minutes, he took the hair tie and twisted Hamilton’s hair up in a bun and teased free the shorter hairs in front. “Perfect.”

Hamilton leaned back against him. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He kissed at Hamilton’s neck and collarbone as he pulled back the collar on his shirt.

“You can take it,” Hamilton said softly.

Careful not to mess up Hamilton’s hair, Laurens pulled off his shirt and ran a hand along his boyfriend’s chest. “If you want, I’ll take you to law school your first day.”

“I’d like that.” He closed his eyes and soaked up the warm hand against his skin. He sought out Laurens’ other hand and kissed it. “Do you want to make out?”

Laurens nibbled his earlobe. “Mmmhmm.” He lay back and pulled Hamilton on top. Their lips met with hungry kisses that turned into long, slow ones as their hands explored each other’s body.

When a knock sounded on the door, Hamilton pulled away long enough to tell the would-be-intruder “no” and tilted his head back as Laurens’ lips trailed down his neck.

Washington returned downstairs and stood in the doorway of his wife’s sewing room. Anna sat on the floor going through Mrs. Washington’s fabric stash to pick what she wanted her next doll outfit to be made from.

Mrs. Washington glanced up from her sewing machine. “Yes, dear?”

“Just be aware that Alex and John have the door closed,” Washington said.

She grimaced. “It’s ten in the morning. We have children in the house now.”

“What do you want me to do?” He glanced at Anna.

Lowering the lever on the sewing machine, Mrs. Washington said, “Be your usual annoying self, dear.” She pressed down on the pedal with her foot.

He looked at Anna again and saw her trying to hide a grin. “You think I’m annoying, too?” Washington asked half-amused.

“No, Daddy.” She held up two pieces of fabric, one pink with daisies and the other yellow gingham. “Which one?”

“You can never go wrong with pink.” Washington knelt down next to her and kissed the top of her head. He saw his wife’s smile as he left the room but also the sadness in her eyes. Little kids were easy to get attached to. They were innocent and vulnerable. It would be hard to let Anna go someday.

Back upstairs, Washington knocked on the door. “There are children in the house, please be considerate.”

In the bedroom, Laurens pressed his face against Hamilton’s stomach to muffle his laughter.

“He’s not going to give up,” Hamilton grumbled and pushed Laurens away. He rolled off the bed and opened the door. “What do you think we’re doing?”

“What do you think I think you’re doing?” Washington replied.

“Ugh.” Hamilton closed the door. He got on the bed, crawled up to Laurens, and tickled him.

Laurens squirmed, desperate not to make a sound. “He’ll come back,” he said with a squeal. He wiggled from his boyfriend’s grasp and fell off the bed.

Hamilton leaned over the edge. “Good job.”

“Do you want to go to my aunt’s apartment?” Laurens rubbed the back of his head. “She’s not home.”

“I don’t want to have sex,” Hamilton said.

“That’s not what I was asking.” Laurens got to his feet. “May I ask why you seem afraid to, though?”

Hamilton chewed on his thumbnail. “For one, it’s been a while. The last time was with Aaron, like, four months after the shooting.”

Laurens sat next to him on the bed and took his hand.

“It was bad, John.” Hamilton stared at their hands. “When my heart started to race, I freaked out. I couldn’t tell the difference between good adrenaline and bad. I gave myself a panic attack because I was having fun.”

“I’m sorry.” Laurens wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. “I’m glad you told me. We’ll keep taking our time.” He kissed Hamilton’s nose. “You’re worth whatever you need me to do.” He kissed his boyfriend’s nose again. “I promise.”

Hamilton sucked in a deep breath. “That means a lot to me.” He twisted the bracelet around his wrist. “Any chance you can make me another?” He held out his arm so Laurens could see how worn the bracelet was getting after wearing it for months on end.

“I can do that.” Laurens slipped the bracelet off Hamilton’s wrist and rubbed at the scar. “What color?”

“The same as before.” He stared the rows of orange, purple, and green, and the one line of pink. Hamilton tucked himself closer against Laurens’ body.

“Got it. May I use this as a reference?”

Hamilton snatched the bracelet from Laurens’ hand and slipped it back on. “I’ll send you a picture of it.”

“That’ll work.” He pulled Hamilton onto his lap and held him tight, resting his cheek against the back of his boyfriend’s neck. “Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“How strong are you right now?”

Hamilton twisted around to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“If I need you to hold it together so I can fall apart, would you be able to?”

His thumb went back to his mouth and he gnawed on the nail. “I think so.”

Laurens nodded and rested his head back against his boyfriend. He closed his eyes as he said, “My aunt told me last night that my mom is sick. She had breast cancer when I was young and fought it. But it’s back now and spreading. She might not be able to fight it.”

“John.” Hamilton squeezed his hand. He slipped off his boyfriend’s lap and clung to his shoulders. “Whatever you need to do, we’ll do it together.”

Laurens swallowed. “I need to see her.”

“Okay.” Hamilton kissed his forehead. “We’ll go together. Just tell me when.”

“Thanks, Hammy.”


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theodosia

The next morning proved hectic for Washington as he prepared for orientation the following week. He replied to several emails, set up a meeting with the other professors in the law department, confirmed with Anna’s school that she was set up for the hot lunch program, and got approval from social services to change contact with her mom to a later time.

As he sent off the last email, his cell rang from Jefferson. He answered knowing it was either a crisis or a request. “Hello, Thomas, what can I do for you?”

“Are you busy?” Jefferson replied.

“Nope,” Washington said as he riffled through a stack of papers on his desk that needed to be sorted and stapled for orientation.

“So, um, Jemmy is having a hard time at the firm,” he said, “and I was sort of hoping you’d be able to use him as, like, an assistant.”

Washington held back a sigh well aware of Madison’s skill as an assistant. “I’m sure I could find him something to do,” he replied. “I won’t know for sure until classes start but I will let you know.”

“Thanks.”

They said their goodbyes and Washington returned to work only for Hamilton to interrupt him a few minutes later. He watched his son come in, a glass of milk in one hand, poptarts on a napkin in the other. He was quick to put the glass on a coaster but when Hamilton didn’t say anything, Washington let him eat and returned to his work. Laurens’ aunt had called him last night and she didn’t think the prospects looked good for Lenore Laurens. But he would wait for Hamilton to bring it up to better access his son’s emotions on the subject.

Hamilton finished his breakfast, drank half his milk, and wiped his mouth on the napkin. “John’s mom is sick. May I go to South Carolina with him when it’s time?”

Washington turned his chair away from his computer to face his son. “What happens if you run into John’s dad?” He watched Hamilton crumple the napkin, eyes on his lap. “If you do and he starts yelling at John or you, would you be able to handle that?”

Hamilton chewed on his thumbnail. “I have to be strong for John.”

“I know,” Washington assured, “but if something happens and no one is able to be strong for you, what will you do?”

“Die?” Hamilton murmured.

“Alexander...”

Hamilton tucked his hands beneath his legs to keep from chewing on his nails. “I can handle it. I know I can.”

“Okay.” A flutter of panic rose in his chest but he had to trust his boy. “When does John plan to go? You start law school next week and Tench is visiting at the end of the month. I could go with you…”

Hamilton sighed.

“What?” Washington glanced up.

“Can you just trust me that I can handle this?” He met his dad’s concerned gaze. “This is for John. It’s easier to be brave for someone else.”

 _What happens if Henry Laurens attacks you?_ Washington thought. _What will you do if he verbally or physically assaults John? Or if you have another flashback or panic attack? I’ll be some eight-hundred miles away._ Aloud he said, “You know I’ll worry but I will trust you.”

“Thank you.” Hamilton twisted the napkin in his fingers. “John isn’t sure yet. I know he’d go right now while his mom is somewhat healthy but his aunt thinks a run-in with Mr. Laurens is too likely. She wants him to wait until she has a better idea on the situation.”

Washington nodded. “I’ll book your flights as soon as you know.”

***

When she saw Burr come into work in the morning, Theodosia left her desk to stand in the doorway between their offices to see his reaction to the box on his desk.

“What... is this?” Burr asked.

“New clothes,” Theodosia said. “Open it.”

Burr hid a grimace as he found a pair of scissors and cut the tape. He couldn’t tell her that he had no room for more clothes or that the expensive fabrics required way too much effort to clean with his zero knowledge on how to wash and care for them. Did she think his new clothes already looked grubby because of his lack of proper care? He hated her to think he didn’t appreciate them or ruined them on purpose. “Thanks, Theo.”

She reached into the box and dug through to find a pair of jeans and a specific shirt. “Try these on.”

“Now?” He glanced at the open outer door to his office, not that much went on in the hallway.

“If you have a minute,” Theodosia said. “I want to make sure it fits. I have an idea.”

Burr got out of his chair. “I’m going to guess it involves me as your model?”

“Yes.” She led him into her office and closed the adjoining door. While Burr undressed, she got the clothes out of their careful packaging. 

Burr slipped on the jeans, at once pleased with the snug but not tight fit through the hip and thigh and the bootcut style. The shirt was cream and made of silk with a heavy weight that made it drape nicely from his shoulders.

Theodosia stopped him from buttoning it. “Yeah, this will do. You’re not busy this weekend, right?”

“Nope.” He couldn’t help but admire the fit of the jeans on his body.

“We’ll go to the Prevost family cabin then,” she said. She fixed the collar on his shirt. 

Burr’s heart rate exploded. “The whole weekend?” 

Theodosia stepped back from him. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

He could only nod. He knew what Angelica would say, what she’d yell. That Theodosia was married, ten years older, his boss. But what did that matter if their feelings were mutual? Or, more likely, that nothing would happen? 

While Angelica did yell at him that night, it wasn’t for very long as she was too excited about the prospect of having the apartment to herself for the weekend.

 

Theodosia picked him up early Saturday morning and drove up to the mountains. As usual, they remained quiet in the car, commenting occasionally on something they saw along the way.

The cabin was in a small clearing, surrounded by rich green, the scent fresh and heavy in the late summer air. Inside, the cabin didn’t appear to have been updated in several decades and retained shag carpet, avocado countertops and appliances. It was small with one bedroom and bathroom downstairs and a loft accessible by ladder to a small sitting area and another bed.

“The lighting outside is perfect,” Theodosia said once their bags were brought in. She unzipped her camera bag. “The props are in the trunk if you please.”

“Do you want me to change?” Burr asked.

“Not yet.”

Burr grabbed the box from the trunk and helped Theodosia set up her scene in the woods. For hours, they worked together moving props, wandering through the trees for anything interesting, and taking pictures. Lunch was eaten on a mossy log as birds chattered from every direction and butterflies fluttered between them.

As the sun set, Theodosia told Burr to change and she set him up in the woods and told him to look “haunted.” Easy enough to do as the trees took on deep shadows and an owl hooted somewhere behind the cabin. 

But after only a few pictures, she stopped and spent several minutes fiddling with her camera.

“Did you break it?” Burr asked from his spot on a log a few feet away.

“No.” She set it in her lap and looked at him. “Your friends don’t approve, do they?”

Burr shrugged. “Not like I really have friends anymore anyway.”

“You know I married Jacques at nineteen.” Theodosia twisted the camera strap around her finger. “I never had an identity outside of him. He groomed me to be his business partner and helped me through college. We’ve been married for over thirteen years and I’ve never felt more alone in my life. But if I leave him, I lose everything. I’ll get very little in a divorce and lose my firm.”

Burr moved to sit next to her on the ground. “Would it be the end of the world to start over?”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” She looked at him, his dark hazel eyes on her full of concern and pity. “It would also be the end of your career.”

“I’m not afraid to start over,” Burr said. He took the camera and set it carefully aside and let her slender fingers lace through his. “Do you love Jacques?”

Theodosia shook her head. “I’ve kept myself from thinking about that for years and pushed myself into work. That’s sort of why I took up photography to give me something else to do and maybe find a piece of myself again. When I was little, I had this huge dollhouse and my favorite thing was to set it up in perfect little scenes.”

Burr squeezed her hands. “I know it’s scary but trust me, being unhappy is a thousand times worse than jumping into the unknown. You won’t be alone either, Theo. I’m not leaving.”

“Even when you lose your job and I can’t buy you fancy things?”

“Even then.” His heart thumped in his chest. Was he sure about that? “You’re more important.”

Theodosia nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. “Please, don’t put pressure on me to do this, though. Understand that this has been my life for thirteen plus years. I need time to make resolves with myself and adjust my thinking.”

“I understand. But, Theodosia—” He caressed her cheek. “—I need to know your end goal about me.”

Theodosia lifted her head and found his gaze in the gathering darkness. “I’m in love with you, Aaron. I want to be with you and that’s what will keep me from remaining in this crappy sham marriage.”

A goofy smile lit up Burr’s face. “Good.”

***

Angelica looked up when the apartment door opened. “How many sins did you commit over the weekend?” she asked at once.

Burr rolled his eyes as he locked the door behind him. “Not all of them.”

“Good job, I guess.”

He sat on the edge of her bed and untied his boots. “Theo is going to divorce Jacques.”

Angelica put her book aside. “I suppose that’s good for you.”

“Yeah, but I’ll lose my job because she won’t be able to keep the firm.” He pulled off his boots. “I kind of need that job.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I would choose her.” Burr looked at Angelica. “It’s the truth but you know how selfish I am. I’m not good with commitment and I really enjoy the money from the job and her.”

Angelica pursed her lips. “You need to be honest with her, Aaron. If she goes through with the divorce and ends up with nothing and you abandon her too because you lied about what you care about, that’s going to destroy her. I don’t know her personally and she has some questionable morals but no one deserves to be ruined like that.”

Burr nodded and focused on lining his boots up on the floor. “What do I tell her then?”

“Well, what did you expect _to_ happen with her?” Angelica questioned.

“That she would remain married and I...” He trailed off at the horror on Angelica’s face.

“Don’t make me slap you,” Angelica said faint growl in her voice. “Call Theodosia right now.”

“I have to find my phone.”

Angelica bent forward and plucked it out of his back pocket. “Call. Now. Didn’t you want me to help you become a better person?”

“Didn’t expect you to follow through,” Burr grumbled as he found Theodosia’s number.

Theodosia picked up at once. “Did you forget something?” she asked after saying hello.

“No,” Burr said. “Um, I need to—my roommate—she wants to talk to you.” He shoved his phone at Angelica.

“You turd,” Angelica hissed at Burr and instantly turned formal on the phone. “Hello, Theodosia. My name’s Angelica. I’m a friend of Aaron’s from college and I have some concerns. Well, actually, something Aaron told me that he hasn’t been a hundred percent honest to you about.”

“Oh, God, you’re his girlfriend,” Theodosia said, a wince clear in her voice.

“Shit, no!” Angelica almost yelled as she made a face. “No offense but I have standards.”

Theodosia chuckled. “Point taken. Your concern?”

“Aaron isn’t good at commitment,” Angelica explained. “Like he is the worst person at commitment I have ever met.”

Burr dropped his face in his hands, shaking his head.

“Apparently,” Angelica continued, “he was going by the assumption that the two of you would just have a long-term affair. I don’t want to see you get hurt by a stupid man. My advice would be to make sure you have a plan in place that is self-reliant. I know Aaron loves you and wants to be with you after your divorce but, please, don’t consider him your only option.”

A long pause followed before Theodosia said, “Thank you for your honesty, Angelica. I will keep that in mind. May I speak to Aaron?”

Angelica handed the phone back.

Burr sucked in a deep breath. “Theo—”

“Do you love me?” Theodosia interrupted.

“Yeah,” Burr said. “I meant everything I’ve said to you. I want to be with you, committed, but I’m not good at that and I don’t want to hurt you. I should have been more honest but I didn’t want you to have a lower opinion of me.”

“I see.” Theodosia paused. “Will you be more honest with me in the future?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“I’m glad I talked to your friend because she is correct that I need to rely on myself. Putting all my expectation on you would have been a disaster no matter what the outcome. No offense but you are a scatterbrain.”

“I’m aware,” Burr said.

“Well, as long as we’re on the same page with that,” she teased. “I’ve already spoken to a lawyer about some of the situation. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early, Mr. Burr.”

They hung up and Burr turned to Angelica. “Opinion?”

“I like her,” Angelica said. “She’s tough and brutal. Just the kind of woman you need.”

Burr winced. “I don’t think that’s a compliment?”

Angelica rubbed at Burr’s short hair. “Poor, dumb boy. What’re you making for dinner?”

“Toast?”

“Again?” Angelica groaned. She booted him off the bed. “Go be a man.”

“What, you want me to go kill something with my bare hands and cook it over an open fire?” He rested his hands on his hips.

“Better than toast.”

“Would it be, though?”

“Just cook something besides burnt bread.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second grade sucks

The night before school, no one slept well.

Washington sat up in bed and turned on his bedside light.

“George?” Mrs. Washington rolled over and nudged Noodle out of the way.

“One of the kids is crying,” he said. “I can’t tell which one.”

“I don’t hear anything, dear.”

Nonetheless, Washington got out of bed and checked across the hall first. Hamilton was asleep but his twisted blankets evidence of his restless night. In the middle room, Anna’s bear had fallen to the floor but she, too, was asleep. He set the bear back on the bed and checked the last bedroom.

Dolley sat up in bed holding a teary-eyed Todd. “I think he’s teething,” she said.

Washington took the baby and rubbed a finger in Todd’s mouth and felt the erupting teeth. “Poor baby. I’ll get him a teething toy.” Fighting a yawn, he headed downstairs to get the teething toys Mrs. Washington had bought and put in the freezer.

Todd gnawed on the cold toy.

“You can rub is gums, too,” Washington told Dolley. “Don’t get mad at him, okay?”

Dolley nodded. “Thank you.”

Washington returned to bed.

An hour later, Mrs. Washington heard the next crying child and got up to soothe Anna.

 

An entirely too peppy Laurens showed up in the morning to drive Hamilton to law school.

Hamilton rested his head on the kitchen table. His foster sisters shared equal looks of misery, one at the prospect of second grade and the other over a day of dealing with a teething baby.

“Goodness, Hammy,” Laurens said, “you’re not even dressed yet. Come on, we have to leave in twenty minutes.” He dragged his boyfriend upstairs. He went through Hamilton’s closest and pulled out a blue and white plaid button-down shirt. From the dresser, he found dark skinny jeans. “You only have two classes in the morning, right?”

“Two too many,” Hamilton mumbled. He dressed with slow, heavy motions and sat on his bed.

Laurens fixed his boyfriend’s hair and grabbed Hamilton’s backpack. “Let’s go, babe.”

Next door, Mrs. Washington had less success with Anna who refused to wear a school uniform. At the end of the hall, Todd cried until Dolley cried, too. Leaving for the morning started to sound like a decent idea and Hamilton dragged himself along a little quicker.

The law school was contained in a single building that took up most of one city block. Parking was limited and Laurens could only find a spot in the drop-off area.

“You’ll do great,” Laurens assured him. “I’ll be right here to pick you up in four hours.”

“Or we could go up to the mountains,” Hamilton suggested.

Laurens kissed him. “No.”

Taking a deep breath, Hamilton got out of the car and headed inside the brick building. His first class was on the second floor.

He had met the professor, knew he wasn’t threatening but his heart pounded as he entered the room in anticipation of a new name being written on the board. Or to see an enemy from some era of his life ready to haunt him again.

Hamilton paused as he entered the room and reminded himself that this wasn’t his senior year of college again. He wasn’t dealing with an injury, mental or physical. This was a fresh start.

***

“So?” Laurens’ eyes flitted across his boyfriend’s face as he got in the car.

“I survived,” Hamilton said. He buckled his seatbelt. “Nothing traumatic happened. Well, except seeing Thomas in the hallway.”

Laurens grinned. “I’m so glad, Hammy.” He leaned over and kissed him. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks. I’m starving.”

“Say no more.” Laurens drove them to a nearby Italian restaurant.

 

When Mrs. Madison pulled into the driveway in the afternoon, Mrs. Washington headed outside anxious to see how Anna’s day went. Hamilton had come home tired but cheerful; Todd had quieted as the day went on and Dolley was happier without a fussy baby. Four for four?

She didn’t get a chance to cross her fingers before a disheveled Anna jumped out of the van and tried to yank the door closed.

Mrs. Washington hurried to help her and she heard the little girl cuss. “Thank you, Eleanor,” she called to a weary Mrs. Madison and took Anna’s hand. “What happened?”

“Don’t like school.” Anna yanked her hand free and stomped to the house. “Not going back.”

It took some coaxing with cookies but the story came out that Anna’s classmates were all “prissy heads” and had “lots of money” and “pretty mom’s.” She shoved a cookie in her mouth and said through a muffled mouthful, “Don’t ever take me to school wearing a dress like that.”

Within two seconds, Hamilton flew into the kitchen from the family room. “Anna, you do not disrespect Mom. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world. She could wear a potato sack and look better than all those snotty moms at your school.”

“Thank you, Alexander.” Mrs. Washington glanced at the pink floral muumuu she wore. Anna’s words weren’t the most hurtful thing a child had told her but it had been a while since she’d been insulted by a seven-year-old and it stung.

“Fine,” Anna grumbled and reached for another cookie but Hamilton pulled the plate away.

“Not until you apologize to Mom.”

“She’s not my mom,” Anna said and burst into tears.

Mrs. Washington lifted Anna onto her lap and held her close. The summer months were often easier for foster kids to get through. Then they weren’t surrounded by peers who lived with their parents. But returning to school, the reality of their situation became harder to ignore.

“I know you’re sad and angry, dear,” Mrs. Washington said. “I understand and I’m here to listen, okay?”

“Why didn’t I get a pretty mom like everyone else?” Anna asked as she used her foster mom as a tissue.

“Your mom is a beautiful woman,” Mrs. Washington said. “She just has more of it on the inside than some of the other moms. Don’t let the other children make you feel bad. They don’t understand and what they don’t understand it’s easier for them to be mean about.”

“I could talk to your class,” Hamilton said. “I could tell them what foster care is.”

Anna nodded.

Hamilton looked at his mom.

“I’ll talk to Anna’s teacher and see if that’s possible,” she said.

***

By the end of the week, the tears had reversed. Anna skipped inside and hurried to hang a gold star on the fridge. As for Hamilton…

“Thomas Jefferson, please report to room eighty-seven.” An announcement came over the intercom.

In the empty hallway, Jefferson spotted Hamilton sitting on a bench, hunched over, shoulders shaking. He sat next to his friend and Hamilton moved onto his lap. “What happened?”

“I-I was giving my intro pres-pres-speech,” he stammered, “and got all-all shaky and couldn’t talk.”

Jefferson tugged Hamilton’s ponytail out of the collar of his jacket. “It’s okay.”

“Why-why...”

“Shh.” Jefferson wrapped his arms around him. “Let’s go get a snack, okay? That’ll help you feel better.”

Hamilton stood and hugged himself. “You’re going to hate me by the end of the semester.”

“I doubt it.” He wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders and guided him out of the building. “I know how brave you can be. Plus I heard you have competition.”

Hamilton looked up. “Huh?”

“Anna. Both of you can’t go home crying every day.”

He wiped at his eyes. “True.”


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad memories

The last week of September, Washington and Hamilton headed to the airport to pick up Tench Tilghman. Hamilton remained quiet on the drive, not sure what to expect. He didn’t remember a whole lot about Tilghman other than his almost annoying cheerfulness.

At the airport, they waited outside in the pickup lane and it wasn’t long before they spotted Tilghman’s freckled face and head of short, reddish-brown curls. A smile cracked his face to show a gap between his front teeth. “Dad!”

Washington hugged him. “There’s my fish. It’s been too long, my boy.”

“It definitely has,” Tilghman agreed.

Hamilton hung back while they greeted each other as he dealt with a flash of irritation to hear Tilghman call Washington ‘Dad’. He hadn’t realized until then how possessive he’d become of that title being reserved for only him to use. It was also a reminder that the Washington’s almost adopted Tilghman and that might have meant no room for Hamilton. 

But he managed a smile when Tilghman turned to him. “Hi, Alexander. You’ve grown up. Well, a little.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “Dad, take him back,” he whined only half teasing.

“Now, now, boys.” Washington patted Hamilton’s shoulder. “Let’s get home. Mom made chicken and dumplings.”

Tilghman’s eyes lit up. “She remembered my favorite meal.”

A smile softened Washington’s aging face. “Of course.”

Tilghman talked most of the ride to catch them up on his life. “South Carolina is an adjustment,” he said. “I liked Las Vegas better but my grandparents were getting tired of the summers and the crowds. I wasn’t going to stay behind by myself, though. Family is more important than location.” He turned to look at Hamilton in the back seat. “Do you still like dragons?”

Hamilton nodded in wonderment that Tilghman remembered.

“Good. I brought something for you.” He faced forward again and prattled on about his dogs.

At Mount Vernon, the usual welcome wagon waited at the door. 

“Mugsley!” Tilghman exclaimed when he spotted the pug, almost white in his ancient age. 

Mugsley snorted in glee and wagged his curled tail.

“Goodness,” Mrs. Washington said, “I haven’t seen him that excited in years. Hello, Tench.”

Tilghman hugged her. “It’s good to be back here. Dinner smells amazing.”

Washington called the girls downstairs and introduced them and Todd. An extra chair was squeezed in around the already crowded table.

There was plenty to talk about as Tilghman wanted to know everything about the past five years, about the dogs, and the foster girls. Everyone was eager to share stories, except Hamilton who only spoke when a question was directed at him. He caught Washington’s gaze on him once and stared at his plate. Washington would want to know why he was quiet and Hamilton didn’t have a non-selfish reason. He didn’t want Tilghman happy and comfortable in their home. He wasn’t their son. He hadn’t been their foster child for over ten years.

“Are you guys still in touch with Lafayette?” Tilghman asked as he loaded down his plate with a second helping.

“We are,” Washington said with a smile. “He’s engaged to be married in February.”

“Awesome! Good for him.” He quickly swallowed a bite. “Not to that Herc kid, right? Didn’t Lafayette turn out straight?”

Washington chuckled. “Her name is Adrienne. They share a passion for all things French.”

“That sounds disturbing,” Tilghman said while Dolley and Hamilton struggled not to laugh.

“I call him Laffy,” Anna said. “What do I call you?” Her face scrunched up in thought. “Trench?”

“Well, I have been called that plenty,” Tilghman said. “Dad used to call me Fish.”

“Fish!” Anna grinned. “I can say that.”

Dinner was finally finished and Hamilton helped his mom clear the table while the rest continued to chatter. Hamilton thought about slipping out, say he had to use the bathroom if anyone asked, and hide out in his room for a while but he didn’t want to draw more attention to his antisocial, jealous mood. He returned to his seat at the table and held Noodle on his lap. 

“Which dog is that?” Tilghman asked.

“Noodle,” Hamilton said and found enough energy to explain how she had looked when they first adopted her. Her sparse hair had already filled out since then and the red, scaly feet were now a healthy pink and soft. “She and Potato are best friends.” 

“Don’t pet Tato,” Anna cautioned. “She don’t like everybody but that’s okay.”

Mrs. Washington picked up and cuddled the fat Chihuahua. “Potato is mine and Alexander’s baby.”

“Not Daddy’s,” Anna said. “She don’t like Daddy.”

Tilghman grinned. “She’s a cute dog.” He turned to Mrs. Washington and they spoke of the dogs some more.

Dolley tapped Hamilton’s arm. “Trade you.” She held out Todd. “He needs his diaper changed.”

Eager for an excuse to slip away for a few minutes, Hamilton took the baby and let Noodle jump to Dolley’s lap. 

Hamilton held tight to the squirming baby as he went upstairs. Todd started crying. “Same, bud.” He lay the baby on the changing table and dealt with the dirty diaper. 

Finished, and the baby quieter and smelling better, Hamilton found Todd’s favorite book that made farm animal sounds and played with him on the bed. He kept one ear tuned toward the hallway, though, in case Washington came upstairs and wanted to talk about emotions. 

On edge that that would happen at any moment, Hamilton returned downstairs with Todd ten minutes later. 

Dolley was content to baby the dog so Hamilton continued to hold Todd and gave him his evening bottle.

Tilghman watched him. “You were always good with babies. The family had a baby when we stayed together, didn’t they?”

Hamilton nodded and a foggy image flashed in his mind.

Washington watched him and got a sense of a story below the surface that he’d never known and that the two boys stay had been wildly different. He changed the subject and asked Dolley to tell Tilghman about her homeschooling experience so far.

A half-hour after dessert, Mrs. Washington got up. “Time for bed, Anna.”

Anna stopped a yawn. “I’m not tired.”

“I can get Anna and Todd tucked in,” Hamilton said and stood.

Mrs. Washington returned to her seat as she glanced at her husband. “Thank you, Alexander.”

Hamilton took the youngsters upstairs and changed Todd for bed. He settled the baby in his crib and talked to him as his brown eyes closed. He turned to Anna. “Go brush your teeth and use the bathroom. I’ll read you a story in bed.”

“Yay!” Anna hurried down the hallway.

While she was in the bathroom, Hamilton found Anna’s nightgown and browsed through the children’s books the Madison’s had given them, as they’d had several duplicates.

“ _Junie B. Jones_ ,” Anna told him as she came in the room. She grabbed the book she wanted.

“Never heard of it,” Hamilton said, “but sounds good to me.” He helped her change and they settled down on Anna’s bed.

Before he could start to read, Anna spoke. “Don’t you like Fish? You’ve been quiet.”

“No, he’s cool,” said Hamilton. He stared at the wild-haired little girl on the cover of the paperback book. “Just tired.”

“Does your tummy feel icky?”

A faint smile touched his face. “I’m okay, Anna.”

“If you say so,” she said, her tone betraying none of her disbelief.

Hamilton read a few chapters before Anna started to grow sleepy, her head against him. He finished the chapter and tucked her in bed. “Goodnight, Anna.”

“Night,” she mumbled.

Hamilton turned off the light and went into his room where Tilghman would sleep. Hamilton would take the second twin bed in Anna’s room.  Anticipating again, that Washington would show up if he lingered alone too long, Hamilton returned downstairs and found everyone in the family room.

“Did they go down easily?” Mrs. Washington asked.

“Yeah.” Hamilton took a seat on the couch next to Dolley. Potato jumped on his lap.

“You look ready to fall asleep yourself,” Washington commented, eyes searching Hamilton’s face.

“Long day, I guess.” He turned his attention to Potato and snuggled her.

Dolley diverted the attention and spoke about the mom and baby group she went to with Todd.

Bedtime came at last and Hamilton was quick to go upstairs and change into sweatpants. When he’d started cutting himself, he’d switched to long pants at night and since it had been winter, no one had questioned the change in sleepwear. Self-conscious of the scars, he’d continued to do so. He hurried into Anna’s room where he knew his parents wouldn’t bother him and risk waking up the little girl. He sighed with relief when his head hit the pillow.

Alone and safe, he could put his thoughts in order. Tilghman didn’t bother him but the memories of the foster home, specifically of an uncle that lived with them did. It had been the first family Hamilton had been placed with and one of the worst. It had destroyed his hope of a decent life in the US, of trusting people, of ever belonging again. That home was where he’d built his shell, stopped trusting, and knew he’d have only himself to rely on. Tilghman’s experience there had been the opposite and the foster family had doted on him. Tilghman still had parents and that seemed to have made a difference. Hamilton had been an orphan. He was disposable.

Hot tears rolled down his cheeks as the painful memories resurfaced along with a strong sense of humiliation. Everyone in that household—except Tilghman—had treated him as trash. Withheld food, forced countless chores on him, fed him a steady diet of degrading comments and reinforced that he was nothing that he would never be anything.

A sob squeaked out and he rolled over to press his face in his pillow before he woke Anna. Why did he still have to remember this stuff? Therapy had helped him work through many of the painful memories but some of those icky moments crept back attached to the worst memories. He couldn’t escape his past. Ironic when he was a nobody.

Hopelessness seeped into his thoughts as the worthless feeling drove down deeper. That thirst to cut strengthened and burned in his chest. Physical discomfort was better than mental agony. That hot flash of pain, the warm trickle of blood, it would ease the despair and make him whole again.

But getting out of bed would require energy and willpower. Then he’d have to find something sharp. Laziness conquered his urge to cut and he remained in bed and wished he wasn’t so pathetic that he couldn’t even kill himself. Tried and failed like everything else in his life.

 _Stop!_ he commanded himself. _Get up. Get help. Now._

It was Washington’s voice in his head and before he could talk himself out of it, Hamilton rolled out of bed and crossed the hallway to his parent’s room.

Washington looked up from the bed where he sat reading. He set aside his book and moved over to allow Hamilton to sit next to him.

Mrs. Washington slipped out of the room, murmuring about checking on Todd since she knew Hamilton would open up easier just to Washington.

Hamilton curled up at his dad’s side. “I want to cut myself,” he whispered.

Washington rubbed his back. “I’m glad you came to me instead. Can you tell me what’s upsetting you?”

Hamilton remained quiet and concentrated on the movement of Washington’s hand. “I was treated like garbage at that foster home.” He closed his eyes. “Tench was treated like a king.” He sat up and words tumbled free. “He’s better than me, I know that. He’s the one you wanted to adopt. I’m just—”

“No.” Washington wrapped his arms tight around his son. “I would choose you over anyone else.”

“But if you had adopted Tench first—” His voice cracked as tears filled his indigo eyes.

“We didn’t.” Washington pressed Hamilton’s head against his chest. “We adopted you and nothing can change that. I would never let anything change that. You never need to feel threatened by anyone taking your place in my heart. You’re my boy, my son, Alexander. Nothing will change that.”

The tears spilled down his cheeks and he clung tight to Washington’s arm. “I don’t like having these feelings,” he choked out.

“I know.” Washington stroked back his hair. “I wish I’d known Tench would be a trigger for you.”

“I didn’t know it would be this bad,” Hamilton said. “When you got the letter some stuff came back to me but not like this. The ickiness hadn’t returned then.”

“Can you describe it?” Washington asked.

“Like extreme secondhand embarrassment.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t want to think.”

“I’ll get you something to help you sleep,” Washington said and got out of bed. “You can sleep in here. Tomorrow I’ll call your therapist and see if she can fit you in.”

Hamilton agreed.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *TRIGGER WARNING: Rape (not graphic but mentioned)*

He awoke to the sound of the shower. He kept his eyes closed and tried to turn his focus away from the nightmare filling his mind. A door closed somewhere upstairs, a voice called out a good morning, a baby cried.

Hamilton was thirteen again and no one could protect him.

When Washington turned off the shower, he heard Hamilton’s cries and hurried to throw on a bathrobe. He found his son shaking and sobbing on the bed, his face pale, eyes squeezed shut.

“Alexander!” He checked Hamilton’s wrists but he didn’t appear injured nor did he respond to his dad’s voice. Another flashback? Washington wondered as his heart pounded. He checked Hamilton’s pulse and found it racing. Had he taken something? Or had he not taken his medication?

Washington called his wife’s cell and she soon joined him in their bedroom. “I’m going to take him to the hospital,” he said in a rush as he rubbed a hand against the ache in his chest. “He’s not responding. Check his meds.”

Mrs. Washington hurried out and returned with Hamilton’s pill bottles. The amount remained that should. He hadn’t overdosed but they didn’t have a way to know for sure that he had been taking them as they assumed. But they’d never had reason to doubt, as Hamilton had been willing to take the pills, wanted to get better.

“What triggered this?” asked Mrs. Washington as her husband got dressed. She sat next to Hamilton and stroked his back. He didn’t respond and continued to shake. A tremor ran through her own hand and she wished she could absorb her son’s pain.

“Tench.” Washington pulled on one of the two hoodies he owned. His preference was button-down shirts but he had no time for buttons right then.

Mrs. Washington pressed a hand against her trembling lips. “Had he hurt Alex when they were in foster care?”

“No.” Washington scooped up Hamilton. “Get a blanket for the car. Don’t tell the children yet.”

Mrs. Washington complied and helped him secure Hamilton in the passenger seat. She stared at her unresponsive son, heart-broken, and too overwhelmed to process what was going on.

Washington ignored the speed limits signs on the way to the hospital and carried Hamilton inside. He tried to explain what happened, what he thought was happening but his words tripped over each other as his thoughts raced ahead of him. _Just help him_ , he wanted to beg.

As a nurse wheeled him away, Hamilton remained locked out of that world but reliving the one of his nightmares.

A door closed, someone called good morning, a baby cried. Thirteen-year-old Alexander didn’t get out of bed fast enough before his door swung open. The foster father’s brother lived with the family, whom the children were told to call Uncle. He was a thin man with a patchy mustache and bad breath.

“Get up!” Uncle yanked Alexander off the bed and threw him to the floor.

When Alexander tried to crawl under the bed, Uncle grabbed him by the pant leg and dragged him away. He picked up the small teen and slapped him. “You are garbage!” He shook Alexander and yanked at his red hair. “A whore’s son! Worthless bastard.”

Alexander braced his slender body as the blows rained down. Then the horrid sound of a belt being yanked from denim belt loops followed by the hiss of it being drawn back and the slap again bare skin.

“No!” Alexander cried and managed to move from the path of pain. But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and no one cared about him.

Uncle grabbed him by the shirt and it tore in the struggle, exposing a bony shoulder. Thin but strong hands dug into Alexander’s flesh and grubby nails pierced his skin. “I’ll give you what your mom deserved. Bastard orphan.” He threw Alexander on the bed and yanked down his pants and underwear.

“No!” Alexander buried his face in his pillow. How could no one hear his screams?

When it was over, he was left naked on the blood and urine stained blanket. The door slammed as Uncle left whistling. Alexander didn’t move. What was the point?

What was the point?

***

Washington watched his sleeping son’s face and wished there was a way completely to erase bad memories from the brain. No one deserved to relive the terrible things. Living through them once was already one time too many.

The doctor called it psychosis brought on by Hamilton’s depression and the trigger of seeing Tilghman again. Another stay in the psychiatric ward was recommended if his waking mood suggested he’d be a danger to himself. Otherwise, continued therapy and some medication adjustments.

Hamilton lay awake, eyes closed, a heavy yet pleasant sensation filling his body. Good drugs, he figured as his mind felt foggy and none of the agitation and panic remained. He didn’t want to open his eyes, though. Right now, he was safe. The world was dark and quiet. If he opened his eyes, he’d see reality. Was he ready to face that? Would he ever be strong enough?

“Is he awake?” asked a soft voice.

“Yes,” a deeper one replied. “He hasn’t opened his eyes yet but I can tell.”

“Your son is a fighter.”

“I know.”

When Washington turned away from the nurse, he found Hamilton’s blue-violet eyes on him.

“Dad.”

That was the point.

***

Hamilton slept for a day, saw his therapist, and slept for another day.

A distraught, worried Tilghman stayed at a hotel and kept his distance from Mount Vernon and attended the workshops he’d come to New York for. But Hamilton asked—at his therapist’s suggestion—to see him before he left.

“I didn’t know,” Tilghman said as they sat on the floor in Hamilton’s room. “I thought I had protected you at that home but I didn’t. I’m sorry I let you down, Alexander.”

“What could you have done?” Hamilton questioned. He remained tired, uncomfortable but he didn’t want to hurt himself. “You were a foster kid, too, Tench. No one listens to us. The system is overrun and bad people will always take advantage. At least I wasn’t there long.”

“They treated me so well.” Tilghman stared at his hands. “How could they have let you…?” Guilt burned in his chest and stopped him from finishing.

“Because you were just as handsome and happy then as you are now.” Hamilton rested his head on Tilghman’s shoulder. “I never blamed you. Not then and not now as I was forced to remember is all again. You did what you could.”

Tilghman nodded. “Does counseling help?”

“It does.” Hamilton lifted up his head. “What I’ve learned is that trauma is stored in a different, more accessible part of the brain. Counseling and talking about it helps the brain move the memory into storage. It takes the edge off the memory and lessens the pain. Unfortunately, I have lots of buried memories that I have to deal with when they resurface. But dealing with them and moving them to storage makes me stronger.” He met Tilghman’s eyes. “I’m getting better. This was only a bump in the road, not a setback.”

“I can see why Dad loves you.” Tilghman patted Hamilton’s knee. “You have his strength.”

Hamilton looked away but a smile crept up his lips. “I’ll never be like Dad.”

“Yeah, you will.” Tilghman stood. “I told you before I had something for you.” He retrieved his backpack from next to the door. “Dragons, right?” He pulled out two pads of paper. “I’ve been making these for you for years.” He handed them over. “I probably drew half of them in this room.” He wiped at the tears that spilled suddenly down his cheeks. “I’m so glad this is where I get to give them to you.”

His own eyes growing moist, Hamilton opened the artist pad and found the pages filled with intricate and amazing drawing of dragons in every color, shape, and size. “Tench…” He bit hard on his lip, overwhelmed as his trembling fingers turned the pages. Somewhere in each was Tilghman’s artist mark: a small fish. “These… amazing.” Tears spilled down his cheeks. Tilghman had spent over ten years drawing him dragons and all Hamilton had managed to give in return was guilt and a painful reality. “You’re too much, Tench.”

“I’ve been told that before.” Tilghman wiped his eyes. “Mostly by your dad. Do you remember the stories you used to tell me about dragons?”

Hamilton shook his head.

“You don’t remember the fantasy world you created full of dragons and gay princes?” He grinned.

“Barely.” But an image sparked in his mind. “Wasn’t it something, like, a dragon school?” His brow furrowed as he tried to reach back and see those stories again.

“Yeah.” Tilghman reached for the second drawing pad. “Dragons from all over the world came there.” He showed Hamilton one of the pictures, a small red dragon with purple eyes and a feathery crown. “I don’t remember what you called him but this was the dragon I remembered you telling me about the most. It took a long time to draw him right but I think this—”

“Yes!” Hamilton interrupted and he almost jumped up and down. “That’s Victor! Oh, my God!” He grabbed Tilghman’s hand. “We have to show Dad.” He dragged Tilghman downstairs and threw open the door to Washington’s office.

Washington looked up and was soon overwhelmed with how he imagined it was like in Hamilton’s head as his son showed him pictures of dragons and babbled on about a victor, princes, and a fantasy world.

“My whole world is changed,” gushed Hamilton. “When I was twelve, I wanted to be a writer. I had this little world created in my backyard on the island but after the hurricane destroyed it and my mom got sick, it never seemed important again. Then when I was with Tench, I must have told him the stories I made up in my head. He drew all my dragons, Dad!”

Shaking his head and smiling, Washington looked through the drawings. “This is amazing.”

“I know!” Hamilton latched onto Washington’s arm. “I’d forgotten all about those stories but I can remember some of it now. I have to write it down.” He ran out of the office and his footsteps thundered up the stairs.

“What have I created?” Tilghman murmured.

Washington dabbed at the corners of his eyes. “Not created. Reborn.”


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemmy makes a friend

Mrs. Madison dropped her son off at the same spot she had during his one year of college. Although he’d regretted it as he said it, Washington agreed for Madison to be his unpaid assistant a few days a week. Madison wasn’t much more thrilled with the idea either.

Another car was parked in the same spot. A mom and her son stood nearby talking and looking at a piece of paper.

“This’ll be much easier, Jemmy,” Mrs. Madison assured. “George won’t make you answer phones.”

Madison nodded but didn’t try to make her understand how boring doing Washington’s paperwork would be. He dragged himself out of the car and closed the door. As he walked away, the other young man called out to him.

“Um, excuse me, sorry,” he babbled. “Are you a freshman?”

“No,” Madison mumbled. “I-I’m an assistant, teacher’s assistant.”

“Oh, um.” He looked at his mom and she nodded. “Could you help me? I was at orientation last month but today is my first day and I’m not sure where to go.”

“Sure.” Madison walked toward him. He was tall, maybe an inch or two shorter than Jefferson was with tousled brown hair and black-framed glasses. “I’m James Madison.”

“Jacob Monroe.” He handed Madison his class schedule.

“You’re in the law program,” he murmured. “I assist Professor Washington. I can show you.”

“Thank you.” Monroe looked at his mom.

“You’ll do fine,” she told him. “Thank you, James.”

Madison nodded.

“Sorry to be a bother,” Monroe mumbled as they walked toward the law building. “I was homeschooled and this is terrifying.”

“I understand,” Madison said and smiled. “I wasn’t homeschooled but I still have a hard time managing. I dropped out after a few weeks into my sophomore year.”

Monroe gave a nervous crooked smile.

“You’ll like Professor Washington,” Madison continued. “He’s amazing and he’ll help you feel comfortable. Have you met him yet?”

“Briefly.”

They entered the building and Madison found Monroe’s classroom. He peeked inside and saw Washington at the front of the room. “I’ll introduce you again.”

Washington looked up when the door opened. “Good morning, Jemmy.”

“Morning.” Madison glanced at Monroe. “Um, this is Jacob Monroe. He’s a bit anxious. He’s just starting today.”

Monroe gave his crooked smile and fiddled with his watch.

“Understandable,” Washington said. “You’re in good hands, son. If you need any help, you only have to ask.”

Monroe nodded as he eyed the floor.

“Sit in the front row,” Madison told him. “Then you won’t notice the other students as much. That’s what I always did, plus I’m short.”

Monroe glanced at the desks behind him and twisted his fingers together.

Washington touched his shoulder. “It’s okay to be nervous. Take a seat and get settled. When I call roll, feel free just to raise your hand. You won’t have to speak in class.”

Monroe nodded and some terror left his gray eyes.

“I can, probably, meet you after class,” Madison told him.

“Thanks,” Monroe murmured.

Washington followed Madison to the door as other students arrived. “Good for you, Jem,” he praised.

“That I found someone with worse anxiety than me?” Madison said.

Washington patted his back. “That you took initiative. I think not having Thomas and Alexander around to take care of you will help your confidence. You’re off to a great start as my assistant.”

Heat crept up Madison’s face. “Thank you.” He hurried to Washington’s office where he was to control the mess until he grew more comfortable and could help in the classroom. If he did that, Washington promised to pay him.

Washington had no problem with Madison skimping his work to help the new student. Monroe didn’t say much when Madison helped him between classes or while they had lunch together. Madison kept quiet himself even though he wanted to ask questions. He’d never been around anyone more nervous than himself and he found his own anxiety push aside to help Monroe. He did ask a few questions, though.

“Where do you live?”

Monroe stared at his chicken patty sandwich and mumbled his neighborhood.

“That’s not far from the Estates, is it?” Madison asked.

Monroe shook his head. “Is-is that where you live?” He glanced up.

“Yeah, well, my parents. I try to stay a night or two with my fiancé and he lives near downtown.”

Monroe nodded. “He’s... graduated?”

“From here, yeah. He works at my father’s second firm while going to law school now.” Madison took a bite of his sandwich and chewed. “Do you have any siblings?”

“An older sister and three younger brothers,” Monroe answered. “You?”

“I’m the oldest of eight.”

“Wow, I thought I came from a large family,” Monroe told his food.

They went over Monroe’s class schedule as they finished lunch.

Monroe rubbed his eyes under his glasses as Madison gave directions to his next class across campus from the law building. “This is exhausting.”

“I know,” Madison said. His own mind already felt taxed and he’d done very little. “I’m ready for bed now, too.”

“Do you think it’ll get easier?” Monroe continued rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, honest, it will. I survived high school. Your body has to get used to the stress and you’ll get a little more energy. It’ll be taxing for the first few weeks, though.”

Monroe adjusted his glasses and nodded.

They parted ways outside the cafeteria. As he watched Monroe walk away, Madison realized how pathetic himself must always look. He knew he had the same drawn in posture and always stared at the ground. His own short stature was sure to make him look even more lost and pitiful. No wonder his friends were so overprotective.

***

As he checked his emails on Monday, Burr found one from Theodosia requesting he see her before he left work that day. He glanced through the open door and wondered why she couldn’t just tell him in person or why it had to wait until the end of the day. He sent her a reply to say that was fine and neither mentioned it as they worked around each other most of the day.

The more he thought about it, the email request had been formal. It was a paper trail. Whatever she wished to discuss was pure business. Maybe it had something to do with him losing his job, although she’d said no more about the divorce. Concentration alluded him as the day went on and he thought about every mistake he had made, every conversation they’d had. Maybe it was about the other employees and not him. He’d heard some of the other men talk crap about how she only had the firm because of her husband and insinuated she didn’t know what she was doing.

 “Have a seat, Mr. Burr,” Theodosia said as if they hadn’t already brushed shoulders several times that day.

Burr took a seat and hoped she couldn’t smell the sweat on him from the long, anxious day.

“I commend you, Mr. Burr.” A smile fought her lips. “I’ve had several employees come to me and mention how detailed and precise the reports you hand out are. They’ve said you are very punctual at getting them done.”

Burr stared at her. “You—”

“You’re doing a great job, Mr. Burr,” she continued. “If you would like some overtime, I have some additional work that could use your precise attention. Would you be interested?”

Burr rubbed his forehead, so confused. “Yes, ma’am.”

Theodosia smiled. “It won’t be thrilling, but I’m hoping the overtime will make up for it.” She pushed her chair back and stood. From behind her desk, she pulled up a box and explained what she needed him to do.

She was right, it wasn’t thrilling, but Burr jumped at the chance to spend more time with her and figure out what the formal-fake meeting was about.

“If you don’t have any plans, you can start tonight,” Theodosia said. She indicated to the empty table where they usually set up props to photograph. “You can work there.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Burr took the box and emptied out a stack of papers. “Theo?”

“Hush,” she reprimanded.

Burr glanced at the clock: it was after five now.

He worked in silence and when six o’clock hit, Theodosia stood and closed the office door.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It was the only way I could think to allow you to stay late and not have my husband question it. He’s been really nosy and I know he knows something is going on.”

“Theo…” Burr ignored the paperwork to stare at her.

“Do you like Chinese take-out?” Theodosia asked, ignoring the question in his voice. “I have plenty from lunch. I’ll heat it up.” She didn’t wait for an answer and opened the mini-fridge in the back of the room. She filled two plates and microwaved them while Burr remained silent and confused.

She set the plates on her desk. “Sit.”

Burr took a seat. “Thank you, I think.”

“I miss you, I’m sorry.” Theodosia handed him silverware. “I know we see each other all day but we don’t get to talk. How are you?”

“Confused.” Burr pointed out the stack of papers. “What am I actually doing?”

“If you don’t want to talk—”

“Theo,” Burr interrupted. “I missed you, too.”

A smile softened her face and she let out a deep breath. “I’m just overwhelmed trying to sort out everything. If I had you in my office after hours for dinner without some sort of front Jacques would get more suspicious. I don’t want to be stuck here catching up on my crap alone every night.”

“I get it.” Burr shoveled in rice and chicken. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

She touched his hand briefly and turned to her own plate. “You know, I was on a debate team in college, too.”

Burr swallowed a large bite. “Really? What college did you go to?”

 “NYC,” Theodosia said. “I hated it. It was too impersonal. You’re very lucky to have had a teacher like George Washington. He cares about his students.”

Burr gritted his teeth. “You know the friend I told you about is his son, right? I haven’t spoken to either of them in a while.”

“I know and I’m sorry.” Theodosia’s hand strayed across his again. “I’m a mess tonight, aren’t I?”

A smile teased at Burr’s lips. “Nah. You’re great, Theo.”

“I think I’ve only heard you say Theodosia once,” she teased.

Burr rolled his eyes. “You’ve called me Aaron, like, a whole three times.”

She giggled. “True.” She took another bite. “Would you like a drink?”

Burr could only nod as his mind went back to their weekend at the cabin. Mr. Prevost must not have known he’d gone or else he wouldn’t just be suspicious.  

 He sipped the wine, eyes on his boss and she, too, watched him. “Any progress on the…” He hesitated to say the word since he had promised not to put pressure on her.

“Yes and no.” She moved around the desk and touched his cheek. “Let’s not talk about it.” Her hand caressed his jawline and her fingers touched his lips.

Burr could only remain transfixed in her dark eyes as his heart pounded and pumped blood to his lower region.

 He half rose from his seat to meet her lips. Her breasts pressed into his chest and a sudden wonder struck him over what the obsession with breasts was while at the same time he wished to cup his hands over them.

Theodosia ran her fingers over Burr’s short curls as she leaned into him. The back of the chair groaned under the weight of them pushing against it.

Without hesitation, Burr ran his hands down Theodosia’s back and felt the straps of her bra. How exactly did those unhook? He dropped his hands lower to the curve of her hips and over her buttocks. The ache in his groin intensified and he was sure she could feel his desire. Warm and tender lips pressed against his neck as her manicured fingers unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt.

His body tensed underneath her as he contemplated the next move and let his hand brush against her breast and trace along the smooth curve. Did she sense this was new territory for him? Did his movements feel as unnatural to her as they did him? Did his curiosity over this new biology lesson come off as juvenile? He jerked his hand back and proceeded to a safe spot against her back.

She eased away and adjusted her legs to straddle him, her skirt hitched up high around her hips.

She was going to call him out; Burr could sense it. All his fantasies about this moment and she was going to laugh at him for being gay, bisexual, whatever he was. Tease him for the stupid, overwhelmed look on his face. “I’ve only been with guys,” he blurted and wished he’d kept his mouth shut. It was another thing he hadn’t been honest about with her.

Theodosia stiffened and made to move off him. “Aaron…”

“I think I’m bisexual,” Burr continued to blab. “I’ve never had much interest in dating and I have a few gays friends. I know I’m not gay. I’m just—quit looking at me like that.”

He was almost in tears and Theodosia looked about ready to laugh.

She relaxed again with a chuckle and touched Burr’s face. “You scared me a little,” she said. “You could have told me.”

“Yeah, well...” Burr watched her and wondered how this had even happened. She was a successful, (unhappily) married woman and he was her dumb, clueless assistant. It was the plot of a bad romantic comedy. “I’m bad with words… and stuff.”

“No kidding.” Theodosia brushed her lips against his ear and nibbled on his earlobe.

A hazy delirium blanked Burr’s mind and he didn’t care. He ached for this to go further and fought back a cuss when Theodosia’s phone rang a few minutes later. She sighed and rested her forehead against his for a moment before getting up to answer it. It was then that Burr realized it was already after eight.

“Yes, I was just leaving,” said Theodosia on the phone. “I’ll be home in ten minutes.” She hung up and sighed as she shook her head. “Where does the time go? I can drive you home, Mr. Burr.” She straightened her clothes and hair as she watched him.

Self-conscious of where her eyes had glanced, Burr stood and moved behind the chair. “I can walk. Probably be best.” His face burned and he knew his stupid ears were betraying him further.

***

Angelica was having a snack when he walked in, dazed and disheveled. “You fucked, didn’t you?”

A grin stretched across Burr’s face. “So close.”

“Aaron Burr.” Angelica sighed. “This is not a good thing. She’s your boss. She’s thirty-two. She’s still married!” She flicked his forehead as he stepped toward her. “How much did you drink?”

“Not much,” Burr said. He took a seat at the table next to her.

“That almost makes this worse,” Angelica groaned. “I know she isn’t happy in her marriage and is planning to divorce but right now she’s your married boss. You have to be careful.”

“I am,” Burr said.

“No, you dumb fool, you are not.” Angelica pushed at him under the table. “You’re a lost puppy who wants attention.”

Burr got up from the table. “I love her, Angelica. I’m sorry you’ve never felt that way about anyone.”

Angelica watched him go into the bathroom. Dumb fool or not, she wished he wasn’t right.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenore Laurens

Hamilton and Laurens landed without mishap in South Caroline a little after ten at night. The risk remained great that they wouldn’t be able to avoid Henry Laurens but time was no longer on their side if Laurens wished to see his mother again. Since they didn’t want to rely on any of Laurens’ relatives to pick them up and wanted to make as small a wave with their visit as possible, they had a rental car ready and gotten a room at a cheap hotel room near the hospital.

They checked in and headed up to their room.

“This almost feels like debate,” Hamilton said as they walked into the hotel room. He turned to Laurens, sudden worry creasing his brow. “When you were on Team Mulligan, did you have to share a bed with Charles Lee?”

Laurens grimaced. “I’ve been trying to erase that memory for years, Hammy.”

“Sorry.” Hamilton kissed his cheek. “You can share with me tonight.”

“Good.”

They got ready for bed and while Hamilton was able to fall asleep—exhausted from the stress of traveling—Laurens remained awake and stared at the ceiling in the gray glow of the room.

He’d been able to see his mom last Christmas when she flew up to New York to visit her sister. She’d been sympathetic to him, said she still loved him and missed him. But there was nothing she would or could do about his father. She had to choose him and the younger children over Laurens. To an extent, he understood, the younger children needed her care and attention. But how could she still love the man who would beat his eldest son and turn him out? How could she not see the damage that inflicted upon the younger children? How was letting them stay in their father’s angry presence the better choice?

It didn’t matter now. It was too late. She couldn’t escape. Death was her escape. Where did that leave his siblings? Erik, especially since he’d already shown signs of becoming as bigoted as their father. Was there a way he could get his siblings away? Would he be able to take care of them? How many years had it been since he’d seen them? Three or four? Would they even be willing to go with him? Not likely, he realized when he did the math on how old they were now. The boys would be fifteen and sixteen, the youngest girl eleven. Would he even recognize them?

A sleepy murmur from Hamilton broke his painful train of thought.

“I’m here,” he whispered even though his boyfriend hadn’t woken. Laurens snuggled closer to him and rested his head on Hamilton’s chest.

Sleep won out but morning came too soon to feel any semblance of rest.

As he stretched out, a faint smile played across Hamilton’s lips as he stared at Laurens turned away from him on his side. He looked too perfect in a white tank top, freckled arms bare, and his curly hair attacking the pillow. He stroked Laurens’ arm. “Ready for this?”

Laurens rolled onto his back to reveal his red, puffy eyes. “No.”

Hamilton wiped at his cheek and held him close. 

They stayed in bed for another hour. While Laurens showered, Hamilton sought out the hotel’s free breakfast and snagged some bagels and packets of cream cheese and jelly.

When Laurens decided he was as ready as he would be, they headed to the hospital with Hamilton driving and navigating with his phone.

Inside, Hamilton continued to take the initiative and found the right floor. He walked up to the receptionist desk. “We’re here to visit Lenore Laurens,” he said.

“Are you a relative?” asked the woman.

Laurens stepped forward. “I’m her son.”

“Name?”

“John.”

The woman’s lips pinched in a straight line. “I’m sorry; you’re not on the list.”

Laurens’ shoulders drooped and he turned away.

“Any chance someone can tell Lenore we’re here?” Hamilton asked. “We flew in from New York.”

The woman nodded. “Let me see what I can do. Take a seat.” She indicated to the waiting room.

Hamilton guided Laurens to a chair and held his hand as they waited.

“Why did I even expect to be able to see her?” Laurens said in a tight voice. “Of course my father would have made her a list of visitors. I’m not going to be able to see my mom before she dies.” His voice broke on the last word and he squeezed his eyes shut.

A nurse stepped into the waiting room and called out, “John Laurens?”

Hamilton stood first and the nurse spoke to him.

“Come with me.”

“Um…” Hamilton looked at his boyfriend.

Laurens dragged himself up. “Is my friend allowed to come with me?”

The nurse looked between them as she tried to figure out who she needed. “No.”

“I’ll be right here.” Hamilton squeezed Laurens’ hand.

With heavy, slow steps, Laurens followed the nurse.

He wasn’t prepared for the sight of his mother. She was thin, ashen, her head wrapped in a yellow scarf. There were bruises on her arms and dark circles under her eyes in her sunken face. Humming machines filled the silence in the room, a silence that lacked hope. 

“Mom?”

Mrs. Laurens turned from staring absentmindedly at the curtain of the adjoining bed. “Johnny,” she whispered.

Laurens stepped closer but didn’t know if he should touch her. She looked so fragile, her skin paper-thin. “I wish I could have come sooner.” Tears burned his eyes.

“I know.” Her voice remained soft and raspy. She reached a hand to him. 

Laurens took the shaky, bony hand and warmed it in his own. Tears spilled down his cheeks as the lost years raced through his mind, that what ifs and could have beens.

“I’m proud of you, Johnny,” Mrs. Laurens said as tears glistened in her eyes. “You’ve accomplished so much on your own. I know you’ll continue to be strong.”

Laurens could only nod as a lump formed in his throat.

“Is George Washington still a part of your life?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Good. He and Martha are amazing people. They’ll look out for you.”

“Mom—” His voice cracked. “I don’t—”

“Shh. I need you to do something for me.”

Laurens let go of her with his left hand to wipe his eyes. “Anything.”

“At home in the girl’s room,” she explained, “in the middle drawer of their dresser under a false bottom is my will. Make sure it is honored.”

“Yes, Mom.” He squeezed her hand gently. “My siblings?”

“Mia is going to college in Georgia.” Her voice grew fainter for a moment as she closed her eyes and her body tensed in pain. “She’ll be fine,” she continued. “Erik is a lost cause, I’m afraid. He’s been suspended from school so many times. Don’t stress yourself about him, Johnny; he’s not your fight.”

Laurens nodded.

“Coby and Isabelle will be okay if my will is honored. Otherwise...” She trailed off but Laurens understood the path she feared on which they’d end up. Mrs. Laurens turned her gaze to the clock and said in a panic, “You need to go, it’s almost eleven.”

Coldness flooded Laurens’ body. “When can I come back?”

“This time tomorrow. Go to the house now.” The urgency in her voice kept Laurens from arguing.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave her hand another gentle squeeze. “I love you.”

The pain in her face vanished for a moment. “I love you, too, Johnny.”

 

While Laurens visited his mom, Hamilton paced the waiting room. Coherent thoughts refused to form and his mind instead reminded him of all the details he’d rather have forgotten about his own mom’s illness and subsequent death. 

“Excuse me.”

Hamilton looked up and realized he’d stopped in front of the doorway. A grin stretched across his face. “Tench.”

Tilghman chuckled. “I saw your redhead from the other end of the hospital.” He rubbed his freckled nose. “Unfortunate place to meet but it’s good to see you again.”

“What’re you doing here?” Hamilton asked.

“My grandfather is having a biopsy of a mole on his arm,” Tilghman explained. “You?”

“My boyfriend’s mom is, um, dying.” Hamilton looked at his boots.

“I’m sorry.” Tilghman touched his shoulder. “Do you want me to distract you? You can tell me how your dragon story is coming.”

In foster care, Tilghman had always been ready with a joke or story or a new topic to discuss as means of distraction. Hamilton fought back the encroaching memories and focused on the dragon story from his youth he’d slowly been recreating.

Hamilton had Tilghman thoroughly caught up on it by the time Laurens returned. 

He stood at once and took Laurens’ hand. “How was it?”

“Difficult,” Laurens murmured. “She’s dying, Hammy.” Tears gathered in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jack.” Hamilton embraced him. Once Laurens was a little composed, he introduced his boyfriend to Tilghman. “Former Washington foster boy.”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Tilghman said. “Hang in there, okay?”

Laurens nodded and told Hamilton, “We have to go before my dad shows up.”

“Okay.” Hamilton waved to Tilghman. “Good to see you again, Tench.”

Tilghman waved.

Laurens hurried Hamilton out of the hospital and to their rental car. “We have to stop at my parent’s house.” He explained about the will.

Hamilton drove while Laurens gave directions. 

“Slow down,” Laurens cautioned as they entered his parent’s subdivision. “But don’t drive like a creeper.” 

Hamilton made a gradual loop and parked near the house, car pointed toward the main road and sticking out from the curb for a fast getaway. “I’m coming inside with you.”

Laurens didn’t argue and they headed up the driveway. At the front door, Laurens found the spare key in its usual hiding place inside hanging potted plant and let them into the house. 

The entryway gave off a farmhouse vibe with wooden walls painted white. Laurens led the way up the wooden staircase. “Step where I do,” he whispered. Muscle memory kicked in to remember exactly where to step to avoid the squeaky boards. 

Hamilton followed behind, careful to follow his movements, a pang of misery at his own memory of doing similar maneuvers at several foster homes. 

The first door along the upstairs hallway was the girl’s room. “Wait,” Laurens whispered and slipped inside. He shuffled to the dresser and opened the middle drawer. Under the false bottom was a manila envelope. He quickly checked the contents to assure himself it was the proper document.  

He returned to Hamilton and they crept back downstairs and to the car. 

As Hamilton drove away, Laurens glanced back and saw a curtain pulled back from his old upstairs bedroom and a figure withdraw. “Shit.”

“What?” Hamilton asked.

“Erik was home.”

Hamilton almost braked in his panic. “What...”

“I don’t know what that’ll mean.” Laurens pushed aside his fears, opened the envelope again, and pulled out the papers. “We just have to be careful. When we get to the hotel, let’s see if they have a scanner and we can send these to Washington. Mom’s will grants custody of Coby and Isabelle to my aunt. We have to make sure that happens.”

“We will.” Hamilton squeezed Laurens’ hand.

At the hotel, Hamilton asked about a scanner and they were directed to a small office. He texted Washington to watch for the email and scanned the documents. Finished, they returned to their room.

“Are you hungry?” Hamilton asked.

Laurens shook his head as he pulled off his shoes. He buried himself under the blankets. 

Hamilton joined him and let him grieve; keeping him close and making sure he knew he was not alone.


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hospital

The next morning, Hamilton rolled over to find Laurens already up and tying he shoes.

“We need to go to the hospital,” he said.

Hamilton sat up at once. “Did someone call you?”

“No.” Laurens tossed Hamilton his clothes. “Gut feeling.”

He quickly dressed and drove them to the hospital. 

In the oncology wing, the receptionist they’d spoken to the day before remembered Laurens and beckoned him to follow. She tried to stop Hamilton but Laurens was firm that they remain together.

The hospital room was even quieter than the day before and Laurens realized some of the machines had been turned off. At once tears sprang to his eyes and his grasp tightened on his boyfriend’s hand.

“I wish I could give you more time,” the woman said, “but her husband is on his way and it’s my understanding...” 

Hamilton nodded that they comprehended and she left them alone with Mrs. Laurens.

Not even twenty-four hours later and she looked even frailer and more ashen. Her eyes remained closed in her sunken face and she barely seemed to breathe. She didn’t stir or show any signs she knew they were there.

Laurens stayed back from the bed, quaking.

Hamilton wrapped his arms around him. “I’m here for you.”

Laurens squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on Hamilton’s warmth against him and the secure grasp.

“We’ll go when you’re ready,” Hamilton said but the words barely left his mouth when an angry shout down the hall decided for them that it was time to leave.

Laurens froze at once and pulled away from Hamilton. There was no way to leave without Mr. Laurens seeing them.

Hamilton wracked his brain for a place to hide or for a plan when he heard a familiar cheerful voice in the hallway. “It’s Tench,” he murmured. He peeked out of the hospital room and saw Tilghman stop Mr. Laurens with nonsense chatter. He was bewildered enough by the baby-faced young man to stop and listen dumbfounded. 

“Let’s go.” Hamilton grabbed Laurens’ by the sleeve and yanked him out and across the hall, Tilghman blocking Mr. Laurens view of them. 

But a minute later, they heard Mr. Laurens shout, “Where is he? I know he’s here. He poisoned her!”

Laurens pressed his face against Hamilton’s shoulder.

“We’ll be out of here in a minute,” Hamilton said and rubbed his back. “I promise.” He searched for exit signs and pulled his boyfriend along.

“I see him!”

Laurens sprinted at the sound of his brother, Erik’s, voice and bumped into a security guard who latched onto his arm.

“Excuse me,” Hamilton called out. “Sorry for running,” he told the security guard.

“That’s the least of this young man’s problems,” the guard replied.

Laurens’ terrified eyes met Hamilton’s. “Do something,” he hissed.

Hamilton gave a nod and turned his attention to the guard. “You can’t arrest him without probable cause. He’s done nothing wrong. You’re also hurting him.”

The guard eased up his grasp on Laurens’ arm. “Your father said you were a runaway and the hospital was put on alert to return you to him.”

“Please, don’t,” said Laurens with shimmering eyes. “He abused me and kicked me out. He wants to blame me for my mom dying. Please.”

His grasp relaxed. “Go.”

Laurens ran with Hamilton at his heels.

They made it out of the hospital and found Tilghman waiting beside a midsize SUV. “Get in,” he said, “I saw someone writing down the license plate number of your rental car.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re an angel, Tench,” Hamilton said as he opened the passenger door. 

Laurens scooted across the seat.

Tilghman shut the door behind Hamilton and hurried around to the driver’s side. He pulled away from the curb quickly but not so erratically as to attract attention. “I’ll take you to my grandparent’s house. Are you guys okay?”

“Not really,” Hamilton said. He rubbed Laurens’ leg as his boyfriend kept his eyes closed and his body trembled.

The Tilghman’s lived in a modest Cape Cod style home on a quiet street. Tilghman pulled into the garage and turned off the car. “The dogs are loud but friendly,” he said before he got out and opened the passenger door.

Laurens climbed out on shaky legs and stumbled. 

Tilghman caught his arm. “Are you going to pass out?”

“Maybe,” Laurens said a moment before his eyes rolled back and his legs buckled. 

Tilghman’s grip on his arm kept Laurens from hitting the concrete floor. He got a better hold as Hamilton attempted to help. “You can open the door,” Tilghman suggested with reasonable doubt of the smaller male’s strength.

Barking could be heard once Hamilton opened the door but the dogs were in the backyard. Grandma Tilghman came around the corner and stepped back in surprise. “Where’s Grandpa?”

“Long story,” Tilghman said. “This is Alexander Hamilton, he’s Washington’s son. He and his boyfriend ran into some trouble.”

“Oh,” Grandma Tilghman said. “Well... Come in.” She let her grandson pass in the hallway to get Laurens to the couch in the family room.

“Thank you,” Hamilton murmured to her as he followed Tilghman.

Laurens came to within a few minutes but accepted laying on the couch with a blanket

Hamilton stroked his hair. “I’m going to call Dad. Rest.”

Tilghman pointed out his room where Hamilton could have privacy to make the phone call.

Movie posters and positive quotes covered the walls and a large dog bed took up most of the floor space. Hamilton pulled out his phone and sat on the edge of the bed. He had no idea what he was going to say and it all spilled out in a jumbled as soon as Washington answered.

“Slow down,” Washington commanded. “Are you and John safe?”

“Yes.” Hamilton sucked in a deep breath. “We’re at the Tilghman’s.” He found enough coherency to explain how that manifested but sputtered into mangled sentences again as he told him about Mr. Laurens and his delusion that Laurens had poisoned his mom.

“Slow down,” he repeated. “I’m sorry to hear that Lenore deteriorated so quickly. Please, tell John that Mom and I are here for him.”

“Okay.” Hamilton massaged his forehead. “What do we do?”

“You come home tomorrow,” Washington said. “Don’t go near Henry Laurens. Stay away from the hospital now that he knows John is in the area. I know John probably wants better closure with his mom and it hurts me that he can’t but you cannot let him near his father. Do you understand?” His voice was firm.

“Yes, sir.”

“If possible, stay with the Tilghman’s until your flight. Be very careful. It might not seem possible, but Henry’s sway in that area is strong and he’ll have friends looking for John. If your rental car is compromised—”

“It is.”

“Okay, don’t go near it and don’t bring it to the Tilghman’s. Retrieve it on your way to the airport.”

“Will do.”

“You’re doing amazing and I’m very proud of you, Alexander.” 

Hamilton struggled to swallow. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Stay safe, son. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Hamilton hung up before his voice cracked. It took a moment to compose himself and he returned to the family room.

Tilghman stood. “Do you want to meet the dogs? Your boyfriend fell asleep.”

Hamilton followed him outside. Tig jumped all over him at once but Quincy had better behavior and sat at Tilghman’s command. 

“Tig, come on.” Tilghman hoisted the dog away. “Manners don’t make sense to him.”

“It’s all good.” Hamilton said and pet Quincy. 

“I know it’s not my business,” Tilghman said, “but what is the situation between John and his dad?”

They sat down at the patio table and Hamilton told him about Henry Laurens disowning his son for being gay and the abuse Laurens suffered for years. “I think the situation was a lot worse than he ever told Dad or me,” Hamilton said as he thought about Laurens’ careful path through his house to avoid making noise. “I just hope we can get back to New York without conflict.”

“I’ll help you,” Tilghman said. “I’ll follow you to the airport tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Do you have room for us to stay tonight?” Hamilton asked.

He nodded. “You and John can stay in my room. I can sleep on the couch.”

The backdoor opened and Grandma Tilghman poked her head. “Tench, can you go pick up Grandpa?”

Tilghman stood. “Yeah. Alexander and John need to stay the night.”

She nodded.

“Tench.” Hamilton followed him inside. “Be careful. Someone might have seen us get in your car or seen you.”

“I understand.” He patted Hamilton’s shoulder. “I’ll let you know when I leave the hospital.”

Once the door to the garage closed, Laurens sat up and tilted his head back to look at Hamilton standing behind the couch. “I need to see my mom one last time.”

Hamilton stroked Laurens’ curls. “Dad said it wouldn’t be a good idea. I don’t want you getting hurt, John.”

Laurens pulled away from his boyfriend’s touch. “Washington wouldn’t understand. His mom is batshit crazy.”

“Was,” Hamilton said.

Creases marred Laurens’ forehead. “What?”

“She _was_ batshit crazy, right?”

Laurens turned to look at him. “His mom is still alive, Alex, didn’t you know that?”

“I—no.” He couldn’t explain how having parents again had been so incomprehensible to him that the idea of grandparents never slipped into his mind. Plus, he didn’t want to admit that Washington having parents of his own never occurred to him. Did his mom have extended family then, too? “But, Jack,” he tried to turn the conversation away from his stupid self, “Dad understands the importance of family. He knows this hurts but your safety—”

“She’s my mom, Alex.” He knelt on the couch to face his boyfriend.

“I know.” His hands hovered to touch Laurens but unwilling to be rejected. “But I also know what it’s like to be shot by a biological father and I will not let that happen to you.”

Laurens slumped down on the couch. “You’re right.” He swallowed and tears grew in his eyes. “Hammy, I’m never going to see my mom again.”

Hamilton came around the couch and sat next to him. He wrapped an arm around Laurens and stroked his arm. “I’m really sorry, Jack.” He brushed at his boyfriend’s tears. “At least she’ll be free from your dad. Your little siblings will have a better chance, too.”

Laurens took a shaky breath. “I’m ready to go home.”

“A few more hours.” He pulled Laurens closer.

“I don’t mean my aunt’s apartment.” Laurens slipped his hand into Hamilton’s. “If she takes in Coby and Isabelle, there won’t be room. I want to live with you.”

“Jack…” He stared at their hands and wondered why his heart rate was spiking. “Mount Vernon—”

“Is just as crowded, I know. We can get a place of our own.”

Hamilton shook his head. “Let’s not discuss this now.” He knew Laurens was emotional and vulnerable and piling on logic—that one income wouldn’t be enough, that Hamilton wouldn’t be able to work and manage law school, that he wasn’t ready to leave home in general—would only create arguments.

Laurens fell silent but only for a few minutes. “Aaron lived with you at Mount Vernon for over six months. Did that tarnish your desire to live with a boyfriend, too?”

Hamilton pulled away and got off the couch. “You’re grieving and you want to be mad at someone. Please, don’t take it out on me. I’m going to sit outside for a bit.”

Laurens let him go without argument.

The dogs greeted him with barks and Quincy brought him a ball to throw.

Hamilton threw the ball again and again and wished it was as easy to throw away his doubts.


	55. Chapter 55

Tilghman and his grandpa returned home without incident. Grandpa Tilghman had fun making his grandson feel guilty for leaving him and cheerily greeted the boys.

“I don’t blame Tench,” he said. “You boys were having a better adventure.” He showed them the scab on his arm where the mole had been dug out. Then he was off opening the back door. “Why are the beasts outside?” He let the dogs in.

Quincy and Tig ran in barking and charged around the family room and kitchen.

“Settle down,” Grandpa Tilghman said.

The dogs sat in front of him, butts wagging with their tails. 

“Go lay down.”

The dogs jumped on the couch and sprawled out, no room for a human to join them.

“Grandpa is a dog whisperer,” Tilghman said. “The boys respect him the best.”

“Oh, they listen to you, too,” Grandpa Tilghman said as he wandered into the kitchen. “Anything for a snack?”

Tilghman grinned at the guests. “Grandpa’s crazy. Are you hungry?”

The boys agreed.

Grandpa Tilghman had already gotten out stuff to make sandwiches. After making his own, he walked off with it, shouting for his wife.

“He’s the opposite of Dad,” Hamilton mused.

“Indeed,” Tilghman agreed. He handed Hamilton a plate and they sat at the table.

While they ate, Tilghman helped the boys make a plan for tomorrow.

“We’ll go to your hotel first,” Tilghman said. “You can get your stuff and check out. Then we’ll go to the hospital and get the rental car. I know some backroads around that area we can take to see if we’re being followed.

Hamilton agreed. “Sound good, John?”

“I just want to get out of South Carolina,” Laurens said as he rubbed his eyes.

“Soon.” Hamilton patted his leg. 

 

Up early, the boys left before Tilghman’s grandparents were awake. Bags were packed and grabbed at the hotel and Hamilton checked out. At the hospital, their guard went up as Hamilton and Laurens hurried into the rental car and followed Tilghman out of the parking lot. 

As they drove through some side streets, Laurens kept a close watch out the mirrors and within five minutes said, “I’m pretty sure we’re being followed.”

Hamilton glanced in the rearview mirror at the white truck. He called Tilghman to give him a head’s up and followed him through a few quick turns. The white truck remained and followed closer.

“Alex...” Laurens gnawed on his lip.

“Tench,” Hamilton said on the phone, “do you have a plan?”

“Possibly,” Tench said. “Keep close.”

But any plan didn’t have a chance as Laurens screamed at Hamilton to turn.

In a panic from the shout, more than comprehending Laurens’ words, Hamilton swerved as the truck behind them accelerated. Rental car out of the way, the truck smashed in Tilghman’s car and sent it down a short embankment and into an electrical box.

“Keep driving,” Laurens commanded.

“John.” Hamilton stared at the crashed car. “We can’t leave Tench. What if he’s hurt?” 

As the words left his mouth, an explosion vibrated the car and made their ear rings. Tilghman’s car went up in flames and dark smoke rose to the sky.

Hamilton’s lips parted but no sound escaped. He scrambled to get out of the car. If Tench… If it was because of them…

“Alex, no!” Laurens unsuccessfully tried to grab him. He hurried out after his boyfriend but froze as Henry Laurens got out of the white truck. 

The raging fire engulfed the car. Even from across the road, Hamilton could feel the heat on his face. There was no way... His brain moved slow and took several seconds to realize the terror in Laurens’ voice. Pulling himself from an uncomprehending haze, he sprinted around the car and threw his weight at Mr. Laurens. He had enough momentum to push Mr. Laurens back but not to knock him down. 

Laurens struggled to get off the ground but his legs shook and he was on a slope and kept falling back on his knees. 

Mr. Laurens spewed hate at them as he shoved Hamilton against the car a hand around the boy’s throat.

Blood pounding in his ears and his lips going numb, Hamilton stared at his boyfriend’s father and could make no move to defend himself.

Laurens scrambled up enough to throw his shoulders at the back of his dad’s knees.

Mr. Laurens knees buckled and his grip loosened on Hamilton’s throat.

But adrenaline made the boys sloppy and slow and they couldn’t get away. A kick knocked Laurens back and his father pressed Hamilton harder into the car, his muscular body holding Hamilton in place. His stale liquor breath nauseated Hamilton as black dots popped in his vision.

He could hear his father screaming in his head and pain burned in his hip. His death would be as brutal and meaningless as he’d always known it would be.

As his eyes closed, a fresh breeze of air blew across his face followed by a whistle. The pressure against his neck vanished and Mr. Laurens weight fell from his body.

Through, squinting eyes and fuzzy vision, Hamilton struggled to comprehend the figure standing before him. A dream, a vision. It couldn’t be real, not with the acrid smoke filling the area and that intense fire still burning. “Tench?”

“Don’t faint.” Hands supported him under his arms. “I can hear sirens. You’ll be okay. Alexander, don’t pass out.”

His vision cleared and a freckled face stared at him. “Tench?”

“Yeah. Here, sit down next to John.” He dragged Hamilton away from the car and Mr. Laurens sprawled on the ground, tire iron next to him.

A dazed Laurens sat in the grass rubbing at a bruise on his wrist.

“How?” Hamilton whispered. He stared at the burning car as the sound of sirens grew ever louder.

“I got out in the nick of time.” Tilghman turned to show Hamilton his singed shirt and hair. His hands and knees were scraped from the landing but the force of the explosion had helped propel himself away from the car.

“You’ve always been lucky,” Hamilton said and rubbed at his aching neck.

Tilghman sat down next to them as a fire truck pulled up and men jumped out. An ambulance and police car were not far behind. The noise of sirens and people shouting made Hamilton cringe and cover his ears. 

Despite his injuries, Tilghman got up and spoke to the police as an EMT treated Mr. Laurens. The officer only needed to hear “Henry Laurens” to have a decent understanding of the situation. Finished with Tilghman, the officer approached the other two boys and squatted down. “Your friend says you have a plane to catch so I’ll make this quick.” He took their statements and had an EMT check them over. “Don’t come back to South Carolina,” he told Laurens. 

Laurens nodded.

He and Hamilton got into their rental car, which luckily hadn’t sustained any damage. Needing a quick route now, Hamilton punched in the airport on his phone and drove off with a little over an hour to spare to get on their plane.

“How did we get lucky enough for the officer to be so understanding?” Hamilton asked. 

“Because he’s my cousin,” Laurens said, half-dazed. “On my mom’s side, obviously.”

“Well, let’s hope our luck will last long enough to get us home.”

Dropping off the rental car went quick and the boys raced through the airport. Long security lines made them anxious but it moved quickly enough and they were running again to their gate.

Panting and sweating, they pulled up their tickets on their phones as the last few people boarded.

Sinking into their seats, Hamilton let out a deep sigh. “I can’t even...”

“Same.” Laurens buckled his seatbelt and rested his head on Hamilton’s shoulder. “Wake me when we get home.”

Hamilton took his hand. A blessed sleep soon took him and neither woke until the plane descended. 

As they stood from their seats, both were hit with soreness and a sudden realization of the dirt on their clothes and the smoky scent. Luck had been on their side again to have allowed them on the plane. 

They hurried off and Hamilton turned on his phone and found a text from Washington letting them know where he would wait for them. Sore limbs didn’t matter once they spotted the tall, sturdy man scanning the crowds. Hamilton broke into a run, Laurens close behind, and buried himself in his dad’s embrace. 

Washington held him tight and pulled Laurens in, too. Tilghman had called him an hour ago to inform him of what went down. He was thankful for the knowledge and not having to freak out over his boys smelling like smoke, dirty, and bruised. With a gentle hand, he touched the marks on Hamilton’s neck. “Let’s get you both home. John, where do you want me to take you?”

“Mount Vernon.” Laurens leaned against him. 

Washington kissed his head and picked up his bag. 

Anna and the dogs greeted them at the door with Dolley and Mrs. Washington quick to follow. 

Hugs and dog kisses covered Hamilton and helped erase the anxious gnawing in his stomach and pull out of his fog. He caught Washington’s subtle glance and took the girls into the front room and asked them to catch him up on everything. 

Laurens sank into the recliner and folded his arms tight around his stomach as he slumped over. 

Mrs. Washington sat on the edge of the coffee table and rubbed his knee while Washington patted his back. “Ten-thirty this morning is what your aunt told us,” he said. “I had a lawyer look over your mom’s will and he’s certain it’ll hold up. Coby and Isabelle will be safe.” 

Laurens’ shoulders shook as he tried to comprehend that his mom was gone and his father had tried to kill him. He’d always thought Hamilton’s past insane and a series of awful luck and, he admitted, some exaggeration. Now his own was just as convoluted. 

“Everything will work out,” Washington soothed. “Your aunt said her boyfriend has asked her to move in and he wants you and your siblings to have a home with him, too. He has a three-bedroom house so it won’t be as cramped.” His hand continued to rub against Laurens’ back. “Martha and I will always be here for you.”

“How did this all happen?” Laurens choked out. He lifted up his tear-streaked face. “I can’t make sense of it.”

Mrs. Washington found him some tissues while Washington said, “Henry drank and it poisoned his mind. He wasn’t a good man. Your mom did the best she could to take care of the children but Henry was determined to poison the whole family. Martha and I will help your aunt with Coby and Isabelle. Family therapy might help.”

Laurens wiped his eyes with a tissue. “Alexander was very strong.” He licked his lips. “You should be proud of him.”

“We are,” Washington said. “We’re proud of you, too, John.” He wiped at the fresh tear as it spilled down his cheek. “I know you’ll make it through this. You’re determined and resourceful.”

Laurens snuffled. “Thank you.” He blew his nose and after a minute said, “Alex doesn’t know that your mom is still alive. Frankly, I don’t he realized you had parents.”

Washington pinched the bridge of his nose, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “Well, he’s going to be in for a rude awakening about where parents come from.”

“Indeed, sir.”

“Try not to scare him, dear,” said Mrs. Washington with a smile.

“Impossible.” Washington massaged the knot in his lower back created from bending over. “My mother is terrifying. That’ll be a conversation for another day.”


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemmy makes a friend

“I... made a… friend,” Madison said as he and Jefferson sat down to dinner a few weeks later.

Jefferson poured them each a glass of wine. “Wow, you sound convinced. Go on.”

“Jacob Monroe.”

Jefferson’s hand jerked and wine splashed on the counter. “Monroe? _The_ Monroe’s?”

“I’m not sure...” Madison brow creased.

“Most of them are tall, gray-eyed, and religious.”

“Yeah...”

“Ugh, really?” Jefferson’s lips pinched into a thin line.

Madison frowned. “What’s wrong with them?”

“They’re crazy. Your father has some stories to tell.” Jefferson stood to get a towel. “They’re the type of religious fanatics that give Christianity a bad name. Does he know you’re gay?”

“Yes.”

Jefferson wiped up the wine and tossed aside the towel. “What’d he say about that?”

“Um, nothing.” Madison stared at his fiancé in bewilderment. “He only asked if you’d graduated.”

“Huh.”

“See? He’s not terrible,” Madison insisted.

“Yet.”

“Thomas,” Madison whined. “Please, I needed someone to talk to at work besides Washington.”

Jefferson took his hand. “Okay, as long as he’s not insulting you or shoving his religion down your throat.”

“He’s not.” Madison sipped his wine. “What kind of stories has my father told you?”

Jefferson took a drink before answering. “Mostly about Mr. Monroe’s strict morals and some peculiarities on how some stuff has to be done. His company is one of the businesses your father’s firm represents. Everything has to be color-coded a certain way for him. He’s just a strange man. I’ve talked to him once and he looks down on everyone.”

“Huh.” Madison looked at Jefferson. “I don’t get those vibes from Jacob.”

“Good.” Jefferson touched his hand. “I’m glad you have a friend.”

***

“Do you...” Monroe began. “Do you want to come over Saturday?”

Before Madison could answer, he rambled on, “Is that okay to ask? I never had many friends. I know we’re older and if it’s weird...”

“Sure,” Madison said with a smile. “What time?”

Monroe’s shoulder relaxed. “Doesn’t matter. What time works for you?”

“I’ll have to check with my mom—”

“I can pick you up,” Monroe interrupted. “Eleven-thirty?”

“Okay.”

 

Monroe was right on time. Madison met him outside and got in his little Honda.

“Your parents have a nice-looking house,” Monroe said.

“Thanks,” Madison replied as he glanced around the interior of Monroe’s super clean car.

Monroe turned around and drove to his parent’s place a few miles away in a tidy subdivision. He parked in the garage and led Madison inside. The door to the house led through a hallway near the laundry room and opened into a family room. Two boys watched TV on the couch. Monroe didn’t introduce them and hurried Madison upstairs to his room.

His room was small and plainly decorated: A twin-size bed, desk, and bookshelf. One religious picture hung on the wall.

Monroe closed the door and fiddled with his watch. “I don’t know how to entertain.”

Madison smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m easy to please.”

Moving away from the door, he sat on his bed. “So, um, I have to, um, ask.” He chewed on his lip. “If you could, um, like, not mention your, um... fiancé to my parents. They’re... really conservative. Sorry.”

“I get it,” Madison said and tried to make eye contact as heat crept up his neck. “Sometimes it slips out, though.”

Monroe nodded. “I just don’t, um, want them to push you away, you know?”

“No, I understand.” Madison sat next to him. “It took my dad some time to warm up to my interests and understand me. Our parents are from a less liberal generation.”

“Thanks.” Monroe glanced at him. “I know that’s not fair to ask you.”

Madison shrugged. “I know you have to follow your parent’s rules while you live at home. I want to be your friend.”

“Thanks.” He twisted his watch. “Do you, um, want to play, like, a board game? I’m really bad at this, I’m sorry.”

Madison nudged his shoulder. “Relax. This is fun. I used to make Thomas play with my stuffed animals with me when we were in high school.”

A crooked grin erased the perpetual sour look off his face. Monroe got off the bed and opened his closet. “Whatever you want to do.”

Madison joined him and looked at the shelves of toys and board games. Monroe had tubs of LEGO, stuffed animals on a top shelf, a dozen different Monopoly’s, and various other bins of miscellaneous toys.

“Can we play with your LEGO?” Madison asked.

“Sure.” Monroe dragged out the tub and grabbed a stack of building plates from the bottom shelf.

They’d barely started when a knock sounded on the door. 

Monroe got up and opened it to his sister Beth.

She was tall like him with long hair loose to her waist and dressed in a long skirt and blouse. “It’s time for lunch.”

“I have company. I’ll eat later,” said Monroe.

“Mom wants to meet your friend.”

Madison got to his feet. “It’s okay, Jacob. I can meet your mom.”

Monroe nodded and followed his sister out. They headed downstairs to the kitchen where the family sat at the table. 

Mr. and Mrs. Monroe stood and their son introduced them.

“I’ve worked with your father before,” Mr. Monroe said. “Last time he had me meet with one of his young employees from his sister firm, Jeffers or Jefferson? African American. Knew what he was talking about.”

Madison nodded and bit his lip. “Jefferson,” he murmured.

“Smart kid. Your father spoke highly of him.”

Color bloomed in Madison’s cheeks and he looked down at his ring.

“Come, sit down for lunch.”

Monroe stood his ground and touched Madison’s shoulder to keep him in place. “May we eat upstairs?”

“You’ll make a mess and attract ants,” Mr. Monroe said. “Sit.”

Monroe’s shoulders slumped. “Sorry,” he whispered to Madison.

“It’s fine,” Madison whispered back. He sat down between Monroe and the second boy, Spencer.

Everyone clasped hands and Mr. Monroe said a blessing.

Monroe’s hand was ice cold in Madison’s while Spencer’s hand was sticky.

After a two minute blessing, lunch began.

“What church does your family go to, James?” Mr. Monroe asked.

“St. Patrick’s,” Madison said.

“Catholic?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re welcome to join us if you are ever inclined. We belong to the Church of Christ.”

“Thank you, sir,” Madison whispered to his food.

“Do we have to talk about religion?” Monroe grumbled. “James can be Catholic if he wants.”

“Jacob,” Mr. Monroe warned.

Monroe’s gloomy look returned and he kept quiet the rest of the meal.

They couldn’t leave the table until Mr. Monroe finished. Then the younger boys ran off. Monroe almost dragged Madison off his chair. Mrs. Monroe and Beth cleared the table.

“Sorry,” Monroe said once he closed his bedroom door. “I should have known that would happen. Jefferson is your fiancé, right?”

“Yeah, it’s all good, Jacob.” Madison sat on the floor, legs in a W. “My family was like that before.”

“Before what?” Monroe asked.

“Oh.” Madison picked at his bottom lip. “I guess you haven’t seen me wear a skirt yet. I’m genderqueer.”

“I kind of wondered about your hair.” Monroe joined him on the floor. “Am I supposed to use a different pronoun?”

Madison sighed with relief. “No, I identify as male. It took my dad some getting used to the idea that I enjoy wearing skirts and painting my nails. He’s supportive now.”

“You’re lucky.” Monroe picked at his chin. “I’m going to guess then that your parents weren’t concerned or had any objections to you dating a black guy?”

“No,” Madison said and failed to hide a grin. “Thomas’ father was a good friend of my dad and they worked together. Our families have known each other forever.”

Monroe nodded. “There’s a girl I kind of like.” A blush crept up his cheeks. “She’s Christian, which I know would be my parent’s biggest concern, but she’s Hispanic. I don’t know how they would react.”

“It’s not really your parent’s call, Jacob,” Madison said. “You can date who you want.”

Monroe shook his head. “They could cut me off. My dad has really good insurance and I have a lot of medical concerns.”

“Me, too!” Madison’s face brightened. “I have asthma and allergies. I’ve had a lot of seizures. I almost—”

“Not like that,” Monroe interrupted and changed the subject. “What’re you going to build?”

Madison didn’t press the topic and they spent the afternoon building and talking.

“Do you want to come over to the apartment next weekend?” Madison asked as he added a third story to his LEGO house. “You can meet Thomas.”

Monroe fumbled with the brick in his hand. “Um, I dunno. I promised myself I would be open-minded in college and meet different people, but you’re the first gay person I’ve met. I’m sorry; I sound like a horrible person.” He panted from spitting out the words in one breath.

Madison chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about offending me. I get it. Plus meeting new people is terrifying. I won’t ever subject you to meeting my friend, Alex. But Thomas is quiet, you’ll like him.”

“It’s not, um really that,” Monroe mumbled. “I’ve never... seen, um, like, two guys… in a relationship. I don’t want to be rude.”

“Oh.” Madison twirled his hair as he searched for words. “Um, it’s not like… we won’t make out in front of you.”

“I know…” Monroe pinched his lip. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to, um make you guys… uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” Madison repeated. “Well, when you’re ready.”

Monroe nodded and returned to his LEGO building.


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speech

“Alexander,” Washington called up the stairs, “are you busy?”

Hamilton came out of his room. “No.”

“I want to show you something.”

In his office, Washington told Hamilton to sit in the corner chairs and poured two drinks. He handed his son a large photo album.

“So you do have parents,” Hamilton said. He moved to sit with his legs over the armrest, album resting on his stomach.

Washington sipped his drink. “I suppose I never did give you the talk.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “I know where babies come from.” He opened the album to a picture of a chubby baby Washington.

“I was about twelve pounds at birth,” Washington said.

“Dang.” Hamilton studied the picture. “I was, like, half that.” He glanced at Washington. “Did you ever have hair?”

Washington sighed and took another drink.

The next page had a toddler Washington in a sailor suit. There was a school picture of a frowning five-year-old, more school pictures with bad haircuts, and pictures of the Washington siblings.

“How come August is the only sibling I’ve met?” Hamilton asked.

“My family is crazy,” Washington said. “My mother is my father’s second wife. Mother took none too kindly to raising step-children and turned all of us against each other, or tried to. I was close to my oldest brother, Lawrence. But all my half-siblings have passed away. My other siblings, except August, didn’t like how close I was with Lawrence and turned against me, thought I was too good for them. Mother egged that attitude on, of course.”

“Oh. Wow.” Hamilton studied the group shots. “None of you really look alike.”

“Washington genetics and, well, some doubts as to my mother’s faithfulness.” His face settled into a frown.

“Huh.” Hamilton found a picture of Washington’s parents. “Will I ever meet your mom?”

“At her funeral, I hope.” Washington finished his drink and poured another.

Hamilton looked at his dad. “She’s that bad?”

“Affection was frowned upon and God forbid us children needed her for anything.” His voice was tight. “I promised myself that if I ever had children they would know that emotions are natural and I would help them solve any problem. She never hugged us and I was going to make damn sure my children knew what a hug was.”

“I think you did good on your promise.” Hamilton closed the album and sat up. He sipped his drink and made a face. “How do you drink this?”

Washington gave a dry chuckle. “Acquired taste. You don’t have to drink it.”

“I’m going to drink it.” Face twisted in a grimace he downed another swallow. Hamilton set the glass aside and tucked one leg underneath him. He soon shifted to have both legs tucked beneath him. “What about Mom’s family?”

“Her mother, one brother, and a sister are still living,” Washington said after a pause to recall. “Her mother has Alzheimer’s and hasn’t recognized Mom for over a decade, though. Mom still keeps in touch with her siblings but they’re busy with kids and grandkids of their own.” He took a drink. “The sister still lives in Virginia but the brother moved to the west coast.”

Hamilton wrapped his arms around his legs. “Family is so important to you and Mom, how come your own aren’t?”

Washington grimaced and looked at his drink. “Generational thing, perhaps. We were expected to make it on our own. You kids now don’t have it as easy with the bad economy and sky-high college tuition. We’ve adapted to knowing our kids need us longer now, I suppose.”

Hamilton started to shift positions again.

“Sit still, Alexander, goodness,” he complained. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit properly in a chair.”

Hamilton let his legs fall to the floor and forgot what to do with his hands and twisted them in his lap. He mirrored his dad’s position and crossed a leg over the other but never felt more unnatural. He grabbed his drink and choked down a swallow. “I’m too gay to sit straight.”

Washington groaned. “You’re something, Alex. You should go get ready for bed.”

Hamilton went upstairs but called Lafayette instead of going to bed.

“Yes, little lion?” Lafayette said upon answering. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Hamilton lay on his bed. “Did you ever meet Dad’s mother?”

An irritated groan sounded through the phone. “Yes, unfortunately. You don’t want to meet her, she’ll rip you apart.”

“She’s that bad?” Lines creased Hamilton’s forehead. “What would she say?”

“She hated that Dad fostered,” Lafayette explained. “She thought—still thinks, I’m sure—it’s a stupid idea and couldn’t fathom why he and Mom would want to let strange kids into their house or how he could possibly love them. She also has some horrible assumptions about foster kids, which are kind of true, but she is a bitch about them.”

“Such as?” Hamilton hugged his pillow.

“She assumed every foster kid was an orphan, on drugs, addicted to sex, doesn’t listen, and was violent.”

Hamilton snorted. “So, she would have been correct if she’d met me at seventeen.”

“You weren’t on drugs,” Lafayette said but couldn’t deny the rest was true. “I don’t think she knows Dad adopted you. Either way, she’d rip you to shreds. Don’t ask Dad any more about her, okay?”

“Fine.” Hamilton let go of his pillow and stretched out. “She’s not invited to your wedding then?”

“Hell, no!” Lafayette said, horrified. “I’m hoping she forgot I existed. To her, I was ‘that pretentious French fuck’.”

“Shit.” Hamilton struggled not to laugh.

“Are you laughing?” Lafayette fumed. “Alex, you’re not seeing the horror of this woman. I’m serious, don’t bring her up to Dad again and don’t ever think about meeting her.”

“Okay, okay, I got it,” Hamilton grumbled. “What’s her name?”

“Goodnight, Alexander.”

His own past told him that reuniting with family was a bad idea but he remained intrigued by his witch of a grandmother. If Washington, king of second chances, refused to forgive her, she had to be terrible. Why did he still want to meet her?

***

“I’m not going back to school,” Anna declared at dinner. “I know everything and it is stupid.”

“Agreed,” said Hamilton and high-fived Anna.

“Pray tell what happened,” Washington said and wished his wife hadn’t taken Dolley and Todd shopping.

“Math,” Anna said. She stabbed at her baked potato. “Stupid word problem had my name in it. Now everyone is mad at me cause it was hard and no one got the answer right. I want to go back to my old school.”

“You’re improving at this school,” Washington said. Her reading comprehension had gone up significantly in the few months and her speech had grown a lot clearer.

“I don’t like it.” Anna threw her fork down and crossed her arms. “I’m gonna tell Mommy and she’ll make you send me back to my old school.”

Defeat crossed Washington’s face. Anna was right, he knew. If Mrs. Payne wanted Anna back in public school, it was her privilege. The woman had been making an effort to get her life back on track and it wouldn’t be long before the courts allowed the girls to return to her.

“Well…” Washington looked at Hamilton. “Your complaint?”

“Too many speeches.” He studied his chicken. “Why can’t I do them anymore? I was so good at debate.”

“Give yourself time,” Washington said and patted his hand.

***

As his next speech approached, Hamilton fretted for days. He tried to practice in front of his parents but switched between unable to get the words out for laughing and or unable to get them out due to overthinking. Alone in his room was the only time he got the whole thing out and it was flawless.

“We’ll pretend it’s debate,” Jefferson told him. “I’ll sit in the front row and can give you cues.”

Hamilton chewed on the hair falling in his face. “What if I cry?”

“You won’t.” Jefferson tucked his friend’s hair back. “Just look at me if you get scared, okay?”

Hamilton nodded. 

The day of his speech arrived and, as promised, Jefferson sat in the front row of the small auditorium. The speeches before Hamilton’s dragged on and he could see his friend working himself up more with each minute.

Hamilton bobbed his legs, drummed his fingers on his leg, chewed his cuticles bloody, and constantly scratched at his head.

When his name was announced, Hamilton almost fell as he stood, legs trembling. He struggled to lower the microphone and Jefferson’s heart broke to see the shimmer in his eyes. 

Microphone in place, Hamilton stumbled through his intro as sweat soaked his shirt. He froze as he started into the body of his speech.

Jefferson willed his friend to look at him so he could offer some encouragement. Instead, he watched those blue-violet eyes harden and the slouch in Hamilton’s shoulders straighten. He stuck out his chin and the words came out loud, concise, controlled. His timing was perfect, his hands didn’t move excessively, and he nailed his ending. It was sophomore year debate again. Jefferson stood as he clapped, a proud gleam in his eyes. 

Hamilton bowed and smiled at Jefferson. He returned to his seat and only fidgeted a little.

When all the speeches were finished, Jefferson waited for Hamilton to leave the stage. “That was amazing!” he gushed. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m exhausted.” Hamilton pressed his face into Jefferson’s chest. All his muscles relaxed and he almost fell.

Jefferson patted his back. “What changed when you were up there?”

Hamilton lifted up his head. “I got pissed. I told myself I was a debate champion and have spoken to crowds four-times as large. I could give a stupid, long-ago written and memorized speech. And I did. But now I’d like to sleep for about three days.” He rested his head back against Jefferson.

“I’ll take you home,” Jefferson said. “Want me to carry you?”

Hamilton stopped a yawn. “I can manage.”

Once in the truck and barely a mile from the school, Hamilton fell asleep, head against the console.

At a stoplight, Jefferson grabbed a hoodie from the backseat and tucked it beneath him for a little better neck support.

At Mount Vernon, Hamilton half-woke and headed inside with Jefferson keeping him from stumbling off into the grass.

Hamilton crashed on the couch as the dogs barked.

Mrs. Washington came out of her sewing room at the ruckus. “How did it go?” she asked Jefferson tentatively while she hushed the dogs.

“Amazing,” Jefferson said. “He got through it perfectly but, I think, the stress of focusing and controlling himself might have been more than he could handle. He’s already asleep.”

“Well...” Mrs. Washington peeked in the family room. “Maybe having done it once will help his confidence. Do you have to get to work, Thomas?”

“I’m off today,” Jefferson said, “but I have—”

“Stay,” Hamilton mumbled from the couch.

A smile touched Jefferson’s face as he looked over the back of the couch and saw the sleepy grin on his friend’s face. “But I have nothing else to do,” he finished. Homework would keep, as it always did. A nap would help him focus better later anyway. He sat on the couch and put up the recliner, Hamilton’s head in his lap.

Mrs. Washington closed the door to the family room to ensure the dogs wouldn’t bother them, and let the boys rest.

Jefferson sank back in the recliner and massaged Hamilton’s head. “I love you, you know.”

Eyes too heavy even to consider opening, Hamilton could only murmur, “I love you, too.”


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The call

The call the Washington’s had been dreading came in mid-November.

Washington sighed as he hung up and left his office. He found his wife in the kitchen supervising the children making dinner. He managed a smile at the kids and gestured with his head for Mrs. Washington to follow.

“I just got off the phone with our case worker,” Washington said after he closed his office door. “The girl’s mom has done everything the courts have asked and she’s allowed to have the girls back.”

Mrs. Washington nodded slowly as she took in the news. “It’s not like we didn’t expect this day to come.”

“I know.” Washington wrapped her in his arms. “I’m not ready.”

Mrs. Washington rested her head against his chest. “We’ll have to tell them tonight. You know this is the only some social services moves fast.”

“I wish there was a way…”

“George.” Mrs. Washington pulled back. “The goal is always to get the children back to their parents. We cannot think we’re gods and a better home for every child.”

“But Anna—”

“We can’t keep her. She’s not up for adoption. Don’t argue with me.”

“She’s seven—”

“End of discussion, George.” Mrs. Washington walked out of the office and returned to the kitchen.

Anna bounced on her toes. “We finished.” She pointed to the tray on top of the stove filled with sliced vegetables and chicken ready for roasting.

“Good job.” Mrs. Washington watched Dolley and Hamilton cleaning up the kitchen. Todd sat in a booster seat on the counter and attempted to pull off his sock. She put the tray in the oven. “Thanks for cleaning up. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

“Hammy, tell me a story,” Anna said. “The dragon one.”

Hamilton chased Anna out of the room. Dolley followed behind leaving her baby.

Mrs. Washington picked up Todd and kissed his head. She wouldn’t let herself think it. They always knew the children would return to their parents. Their job was to give them a safe place, feed them, love them, guide them, and return them home.

When dinner was ready, the family gathered at the table and filled up their plates. The girls and Hamilton did most of the talking. When the meal was almost finished, Mrs. Washington said. “Dolley, Anna, your mom is ready for you to live with her again. You’ll return to her in a few days.”

“Cool,” Dolley said.

Anna spit out the chunk of sweet potato in her mouth. “Not live here anymore?”

“That’s right,” Washington said and tried to keep his voice even. “You’ll go back home to your mom.”

Hamilton shoved his chair back and left the kitchen.

“Oh,” Anna whispered.

“Cheer up, Anna.” Dolley nudged her sister. “You loved home. Everything will be good again.”

Anna stared at her plate.

“Social services will keep an eye on you for a few months,” Mrs. Washington said. “They’ll make sure your mom buys you healthy food to eat and that you have clean clothes and rooms.”

Anna nodded but her eyes shimmered with tears.

“What about Todd?” Dolley asked.

“He’ll go with you,” Mrs. Washington said with a furrowed brow.

“Oh.” Dolley looked through the open door of the family room to her baby in his playpen.

“Do you have concerns about that?” Washington asked, unmasked hope in his voice at the chance to keep one of them.

“Yeah, how am I supposed to take care of him?” Dolley glanced between her foster parents.

“You know how,” Mrs. Washington said. “You’ve been doing really well.”

“Yeah, but you’re here in case I mess up. My mom isn’t going to help like that. I can’t raise him by myself. I’ll give him up for adoption.”

Washington looked at his wife but she purposely ignored him. “Are you sure, Dolley? You can take your time deciding. Maybe take him home—”

“No.” Dolley picked at a piece of chicken on her plate. “This is the only home he’s known. He doesn’t know about poverty and being dirty and hungry. I’m not going to put him in that situation. He deserves a family who can care for him properly.”

Mrs. Washington touched her hand. “George and I can’t adopt Todd, you know that, right?”

“I know.” She met her foster mom’s eyes. “But I don’t want to take him home and raise him wrong. Would he be able to stay here until he’s adopted?”

“I’m sure we can arrange that,” Washington said before his wife vetoed the idea and killed his aspiration. “Still, think about it some more.”

“No.” Dolley pushed back her chair. “I’ve thought about it since the day he was born. Finishing high school is going to be enough of a struggle without a baby. How would I support him? Childcare is expensive. If someone else loves him and raises him, we both might have a shot at something.” She left the kitchen before the Washington’s could argue. But there wasn’t much to argue about.

Anna followed her out of the room.

Todd began to fuss and Mrs. Washington tended to him while Washington did the dishes. Finished, he went to his office and found Hamilton sitting on a suede chair in the corner. He had his legs drawn up, glass balanced on his knees.

Washington sat in the other chair and poured himself a drink. “How much have you drank?”

“Like a sip,” Hamilton said. “This stuff is nasty.”

Washington took a swallow of whiskey. “I know. Are you okay?”

Hamilton set the glass down on the end table. “I don’t know.” He rested his chin on his knees. “Part of me knew the girls would leave eventually but I didn’t know it would hurt this much.”

“I understand.” Washington leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. “It never gets easier.”

“Anna’s so sweet,” Hamilton said. “What’s going to happen to her? What kind of life is she going to have?”

“That’s not for us to stress over, Alexander.” Washington took another drink. “We do what we can while we can and then we have to let go. Dolley is going to place Todd up for adoption. He’ll stay here until then.”

Hamilton nodded. “Any chance…”

Washington shook his head, despite his own plan to attempt to convince his wife. “Don’t attach yourself to the idea. Go upstairs and read Anna a story. She still needs you right now.”

Hamilton left the office and Washington closed his eyes. It was easier to let them go when he knew the children had a chance to succeed. Tilghman had loving grandparents to care for him. Greene had ambitions and the drive to propel himself. He had aged out of the system in their home. He was one of two—not counting Hamilton and their honorary boys—for whom they’d paid for college. The other had dropped out after two years but Greene had graduated. Another two that had aged out while with them had jobs and some family support. One left the day he turned eighteen without a word. The rest struggled. The younger ones who returned to their families had similar rates of success and failure.

The foster system was flawed but it was still better than the children remaining where they were. It gave the parents a chance to get back on their feet. Some did, some didn’t.

In the downstairs bathroom down the hall from the office, Todd splashed in the tub while Mrs. Washington washed his rolls of baby fat. Her back ached already from bending over the tub. She knew her husband would try to fight her on keeping the baby. She’d like nothing more herself but one of them had to keep reality in check. They weren’t young, Washington had health problems, the care of Todd would fall to Hamilton and he didn’t deserve to have his life stolen because his parents were selfish and didn’t want to deal with the pain of losing the baby.

That’s what she told Washington when they were alone that night. “Alexander comes first.”

“He loves Todd, too,” Washington argued.

“Don’t do this, George.” Mrs. Washington studied her husband’s aging face. “We cannot raise a baby. It would not be fair to Todd. There will be grandchildren soon. Let’s focus on that.”

Washington let out a deep sigh. “I hate when I cannot fix something.”

“I’ve known that for over thirty years, dear.”

“And I forever forget.” He kissed his wife’s cheek. “This is going to be brutal.”

“I know but we’ll handle it together.” Mrs. Washington set the dogs on the bed. “Like we always have.”


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodbyes

For Dolley, returning home meant no rules, junk food, and freedom to come and go as she pleased. But even so, there were tears as she packed up her belongings, many of which the Washington’s had bought for her. Many of the tears were for Todd, too. Now that the plan was out there, she waffled with whether the choice was right or not. Having Todd would be an incentive to work a little harder but it would also mean a constant struggle. Alone, she could have the money to take care of herself a little better. She could work more. Most importantly, she wouldn’t have to worry about her mom babysitting him and forgetting about him as she had done often with Anna. Plus, without Todd, Dolley could focus on Anna because she knew their mom would not despite what social services might think.

“Will you keep in touch?” Hamilton asked as he helped Dolley pack.

“Probably not,” Dolley admitted. “Being here has been great but I’d rather forget it because it’s been too much of a fantasy. I won’t ever be this well cared for or comfortable again.” That was why Todd had to be adopted, she then decided for sure.

“You’ll be eighteen in May,” Hamilton said. “Mom and Dad would take you back and help you get on your feet.”

Dolley zipped up her backpack. “No, Alexander. I need my own life.” She kissed his cheek and lingered next to him. “I’m glad I met you, though. You’re something.”

Hamilton had barely left the room before Washington came in. He handed Dolley a hundred and three dollars in cash.

“Why the three dollars?” Dolley asked.

“Always keep a few dollars,” Washington said. “Sometimes that can make all the difference. That cash is for emergencies. If you need to get away from a bad situation, you have something to help yourself or Anna. Be responsible.”

“Yes, sir.” Dolley put the money in her purse. “I’ll look for a job right away and get my GED. My goal is to get out of my mother’s house this summer. I know she’ll just bring me down to her level otherwise, but I’ll make sure Anna is safe.”

“Good luck, Dolley.” Washington kissed her head. “I’m proud of you.”

Dolley turned away as she bit hard on her lip, tears burning in her eyes.

In the bedroom next door, Mrs. Washington packed up Anna’s clothes and toys. Some of the clothes had already become too small and she would return them to the Madison’s for Bess. Most of the toys would stay, as even Anna knew there was a strong chance they’d be broken by her mom. She wouldn’t part with the doll or bear, though. She had a special backpack that both fit in along with some doll clothes.

“I named her Martha,” Anna said as she tugged the zipper on the bag. “She’ll keep me safe.”

“Indeed she will, dear,” Mrs. Washington said and stared at the ceiling as she willed the tears not to fall.

Washington’s broad shadow filled the doorway. “Ready? The girl’s case worker is here.”

Anna latched herself onto Washington’s leg. “I want to stay, Daddy!”

Washington lifted her into his arms and rubbed his nose against hers. “Be brave,” he said, as much for himself as for her. He set her down and wiped at his eyes as she ran out of the room crying.

Mrs. Washington took her husband’s hand. “Time to rip off the band-aid.”

Dolley was quick to say her goodbyes and take her stuff outside while Anna clung to her foster family and sobbed.

The case worker pried her away. “Your mom is waiting, Anna,” she tried to soothe. “Come along.”

Anna ran outside, pigtails flying as her cries continued.

The front door closed and Mount Vernon fell into a strange silence.

Washington wrapped his arms around his wife. “They’ll be okay,” he whispered to convince himself.

The day remained quiet. Even Todd barely made a peep, sensing that something had changed. The Washington’s cleaned the bedrooms and washed the bedding, everything set back up for the next person who needed their attention. Hamilton watched over Todd and struggled to fight back the emptiness filling him.

On Sunday, Lafayette and Adrienne stopped by for dinner and eased a little life back into the house.

On Monday, Washington and Hamilton returned to work and school and left Mrs. Washington to deal with the empty home. There was still Todd to care for but it made the loss feel greater as he would soon be gone, too.

A month later, that day came.

“He can’t be adopted!” Hamilton pleaded. “He stays with us. We’re his family.”

“Alexander, please.” Washington pushed him back. “The decision was made last month. It’s over.”

“Dad, no!” Hamilton tried to grab Todd.

Washington held him back. “Martha!” he yelled.

Eyes red and puffy, Martha hurried to take the baby and sat in the front room to wait for social services to arrive and give him to his new family. They were a couple in their early thirties, a teacher and a nurse. The Washington’s had met with them several times and knew Todd would be loved and cared for.

Hamilton struggled against his dad’s grasp. “We can’t abandon him!”

“We’re not,” Washington’s voice was harsh. “Enough is enough, Alexander. Todd is adopted.”

Hamilton broke free and ran out into the backyard.

The doorbell rang and Washington let him be to help his wife see Todd off to his new home.

“His parents would love to send you pictures,” said the social worker. “Would that be okay?”

“Of course,” Washington said before a lump formed in his throat. He kissed Todd and squeezed his plump, little hands. He couldn’t tell him to be a good boy or that he loved him and hoped Todd knew that.

Mrs. Washington handed over the baby. When the front door closed, the tears broke free and she sobbed into her husband’s chest. “Did we do the right thing?”

She got no response. It was a question they always asked and could never answer.

Now, a real emptiness pervaded the house. It had been over six months with Mount Vernon filled with children and it was a shock to once again hear the creaks and hum of the house and not the shrieks and giggles of small humans.

Hamilton returned inside, shivering and joined Washington in his recliner.

“I know you’re sad,” Washington said as he rubbed his son’s chilled fingers. “I know it’s hard to understand but this is what’s best for Todd.”

“What do we do now?” Hamilton whispered.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Washington admitted. “We heal, I suppose, and open our hearts up again to another challenge.”


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bachelor party planning.

“Jemmy,” Washington said, “can you come in later tomorrow? I have an errand for you after work.”

Madison buttoned his coat. “Yeah. Mom should be able to drop me off.” He stopped a yawn. At least that meant he could sleep in. He’d grown to enjoy being Washington’s assistant but the colder and darker days of winter made him tired and his usual four hours of work exhausted him.

“Thank you.” Washington walked him out. He had Mrs. Madison drop off and pick up her son at the employee lot since it was visible from the law building and he could make sure Madison got safely to her car. If a good night’s sleep and the weekend didn’t revive some color in the boy’s face, Washington would give him a few extra days off. How tired he seemed after working four hours—sitting down the majority of the time—worried him.

The next afternoon, once his classes were finished, Washington handed Madison a manila envelope and drove them downtown. “This will be easy, I promise,” Washington said as he parked outside the Prevost law firm. “Go to the second floor and straight down the hall. You should see a small office and you can give that envelope to the person there.”

Madison sucked in a deep breath. “Do I have to talk?”

“Nope.”

Madison got out of the Cadillac and hurried inside, envelope clutched in his mitted hand. He followed Washington’s instructions and avoided looking at anyone. He spotted the small office and prepared to toss the envelope on the desk and hurry away.

“James?”

Madison turned around from his hasty retreat and looked up in surprise. “Aaron. I didn’t know you worked here.”

Burr stood and pushed back his chair. “Yeah.” He moved the envelope from the edge of his desk before it fell. “I’m an assistant of sorts. How are you?”

Madison shrugged. “I’ve been tired.” How long had it been since he’d seen Burr? He’d put on a little weight and looked good.

“That sucks.” He moved around the front of his desk and sat half on the edge. “I’m sorry I haven’t reached out to you.” He rubbed his hands together. “I didn’t really know what to do and I didn’t want to put any more stress on Washington or Alex. You and Thomas didn’t need to be put in the middle either.”

Madison pulled off his mittens. “I don’t think there was an easy decision. I think Washington would like to talk to you, though. I’m assuming that’s why he’s sending stuff here, anyway. Once you’re one of his boys, he doesn’t forget you.”

Burr nodded and rubbed at his right eye. He paused, head cocked. “Did you and Thomas get engaged?” He pointed to Madison’s hand. 

A grin crept up Madison’s face. “Yeah. We’re going to get married next fall.”

“That’s awesome, James!” Burr’s face lit up. “I’m so excited for you.”

“Thanks.” Madison ducked his chin into his coat. “Maybe we could catch up sometime?”

“I’d like that.” He straightened up. “I’ll walk you out.”

They didn’t talk as they headed downstairs. Front doors in sight, Burr asked, “When and where do you want to get together? Neither of us can drive.”

“Can Angelica drop you off at Montpelier this weekend?” Madison asked. He knew from Jefferson that the two were roommates.

“Possibly,” Burr said. “I’ll text you.”

Madison put on his mittens and nodded. “See you later, Aaron.”

Burr opened the door for him. “Bye.”

In the Cadillac, Washington watched Madison get in and buckle his seat. “Did everything go okay?”

“Yeah.” Madison pulled his hair out of the way of the seatbelt. “You knew Aaron worked there, didn’t you?”

Washington merged back into traffic. “Yes. How is he?”

“He seems happy,” Madison said. “He looked good. We might get together this weekend but I dunno.” He itched his nose. “What would we even talk about?”

“I understand.” Washington glanced at him. “As long as he’s thriving and not getting himself into any trouble.”

Madison stared out the passenger window.

“Jem?”

“From what Thomas has heard from Angelica, Aaron has been having an affair with his boss,” he explained. “She’s considering a divorce.”

Washington sighed. “Why did I have a feeling he couldn’t stay out of romance problems? Well...” He trailed off knowing there was nothing else to say on the subject. It wasn’t as if Burr would take his advice. 

***

When he heard the front door open, Hamilton came out of the kitchen holding a wooden spoon with a guilty look on his face. He sighed with relief to see Laurens. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey.” Laurens locked the door behind him and the old dogs decided to start barking and charge at him. “Great watchdogs,” he teased. He waded through the dogs to the kitchen. “What’re you doing?”

Hamilton gestured to the mess in the kitchen.

“What’re you doing?” Laurens repeated.

“Making brownies.”

“Ah… I would never have guessed that.” Laurens tugged Hamilton’s ponytail. “Your parents are out, I take it?”

“Bingo night.” Hamilton returned to his bowl of batter. “No kids so they can go out again. Try this.”

Laurens took the spoon his boyfriend offered and slowly took a small lick. When his tongue wasn’t met with a horrible taste, he took a bigger bite. “That’s actually good, Hammy.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “I’m not _always_ hopeless.” He found a pan and Laurens helped him dump the batter in and smooth it out. Once it was in the oven, he said, “You wrote in your text that Hercules wanted to talk to us?”

“Yeah.” Laurens gathered up dirty dishes. “About Lafayette’s bachelor party since we’re the groomsmen. Can he come over if he’s not busy?”

Hamilton agreed since the Washington’s wouldn’t be home until nine and they wouldn’t care anyway.

A half hour later, Mulligan pulled up the driveway in his beat-up Subaru. By then the brownies were done and the boys sat down at the kitchen table to try them.

“They’re not quite Martha’s brownies,” Mulligan said, “but these are pretty decent, Alex.”

Hamilton grinned. “Thanks. What’re our requirements for the bachelor party?”

“Well…” Mulligan stuffed another bite of brownie in his mouth and took his time chewing. “Laf sort of hinted he wanted strippers but do you think we’re required to get him female ones?”

“Ugh, I hope not,” Laurens said and set down his glass of milk. “We go by consensus, right, not whether Lafayette thinks he’s straight or not?”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “I’m sure we can get both, you guys.”

Mulligan and Laurens glared at him.

“Just like the bisexual to suggest that,” Laurens teased and pinched Hamilton’s nose. “I don’t want to see half-naked women dancing, though.”

“Same,” Mulligan agreed. “I always feel compelled to offer them a jacket or something.”

“Come on, give Laf a little fun,” Hamilton argued. “Isn’t Adrienne the only girl he’s been with? He needs a night to go wild and see some stuff.”

“Fine,” Mulligan said and took another brownie. “But he’s getting a lap dance from a guy. He owes us that.”

“Works for me,” Hamilton said. “John?”

“No girls,” he whined.

“Come on.” Hamilton pushed Laurens’ chair back and straddled him. “I’ll keep you distracted; you won’t even see the girls.” He brushed his nose against his boyfriend’s face and slowly kissed him.

Mulligan cleared his throat.

Laurens fought a grin. “Okay. Lafayette can have both.” He looked around Hamilton’s shoulder at Mulligan. “What else do we have to decide?”

They spent the next hour choosing alcohol and appetizers. Lafayette had already opted for the party to be held at the country club Washington belonged to and could get a good rate on renting one of the smaller venue halls.

“Alcohol, food, and strippers, that’s all we need, right?” Hamilton said. He remained on Laurens’ lap but had turned around.

“That’s all I’d want,” Mulligan said.

“Decorations?” Laurens asked.

“Way to not make this gay, John,” Hamilton said. “Ouch!” he complained as Laurens pinched him.

“We could probably get some balloons,” Mulligan said and chugged the last of his milk. “Fill them with glitter and completely kill Lafayette.”

“What does he expect?” Laurens said. “He is allowing three gays to plan his party. We have to live up to the stereotype a little.”

Mulligan pointed at him and Hamilton. “No, you guys are doing a good job at that.”

Laurens shoved Hamilton off him. “Are you bringing anyone, Herc?”

Hamilton picked himself off the floor and shook Laurens’ chair.

“Come on, Herc,” Laurens wheedled. “Isn’t there anyone in your life?”

“He’s grinning,” teased Hamilton. “Spill, Herc.”

“Nah, it’s nothing serious.” Mulligan rubbed at his burning cheeks. “Just some guy I met at the gym, well, the bakery across from the gym.”

Hamilton pounced on him. “What’s his name?”

“Come on, get off.” Mulligan nudged Hamilton back. “It’s nothing. Do we have anything else to plan?”

“Your love life,” Laurens said.

“Nah, come on, I’m good.” Mulligan pushed back his chair. “You want to get the balloons, John? I’ll deal with the food and drinks.”

“Sure,” Laurens said.

“I can help,” piped up Hamilton.

The other two ignored him.

“Is James coming?” Mulligan asked.

“I don’t think his parents will allow him,” Hamilton said. “He hasn’t turned twenty-one yet, has he?”

“Pretty sure he turned twenty-one last spring,” Laurens said.

“What?” Hamilton stared at him. “Why didn’t he have a party?”

Laurens looked at Mulligan who was quick to look away.

“What?” Hamilton repeated.

“You were still pretty fragile, Hammy,” Laurens explained in a soft voice. “Washington wasn’t doing great either. James didn’t want you guys missing out and didn’t have a party.”

“Shit.” Hamilton sat down and blinked rapidly. “That was, like, nine months ago and I never even realized.” He pressed his hands against his face. “Our little duck is almost grown and I’m missing it.”

Laurens rubbed his boyfriend’s back. “You know it didn’t bother James. He doesn’t like parties anyway. He knows you care about him.”

“Yeah, but he turned twenty-one and it never even crossed my mind.” Hamilton tugged at his hair.

“To be fair,” Mulligan said, “it’s hard to remember he is that old. He still looks sixteen.”

Hamilton stood. “I’m going to call him.”

Laurens snagged his hood. “It’s almost nine. He’ll be asleep. We can go over tomorrow.”

“Fine.”


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington

The next afternoon, Hamilton and Laurens drove over to Montpelier. Knowing they would only be there a few minutes and not sure how to explain in a text, Hamilton didn’t tell Madison they were coming. 

Ambrose let them inside with a strained smile. “Hey, um—”

“Lecks!” Bess’ shriek cut him off and she scurried down the stairs and hugged his legs.

“Good to see you, too, Bess.” Hamilton lifted her into his arms. 

She grabbed his nose.

“Still obsessed with that, aren’t you?”

“Big.”

Laurens coughed back a chuckle.

“Um, Jemmy has company,” Ambrose tried again. “You might want to go, Alex.”

Worry lines creased Hamilton’s forehead. “Who?”

Ambrose didn’t get a chance to answer before two voices carried from the kitchen, followed by Madison and Burr emerging from the hallway. They both stopped short, Burr’s words dying in his mouth.

“Alex, I didn’t know you were coming over,” Madison said. He stepped in front of Burr as if he could somehow hide him. 

“We’ll come back later,” Laurens said and tried to turn Hamilton toward the door while Ambrose reached for his sister.

Hamilton held tight to the toddler, eyes on Burr. In his mind, he could hear Burr telling him to leave, that he was better off without Hamilton, that he wasn’t willing to understand. He needed to walk out of the house but his feet and brain refused to cooperate. 

Laurens shifted his weight and tugged at the collar of his shirt. He’d never told Hamilton that he had slept with Burr after the breakup. He was certain he hadn’t spoken to Burr since and those dark hazel eyes burned into him. “Let’s go, Alex.”

“Yeah, John, go, like you always do,” Burr said.

Laurens bumped into Hamilton as he spun around. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Six in the morning comes and you just disappear without a word.” Burr moved around Madison. “I know you told me you were on Alexander’s side but that was cold, even for you.”

“Fuck you!” Laurens growled.

“Didn’t I?” Burr’s voice was cool, controlled. 

“Jack.” Hamilton handed Bess to her brother and reached for Laurens’ arm. “Let’s go.”

Laurens brushed him off and stepped closer.

“Don’t fight,” Madison squeaked and hugged himself. 

“John, come one,” Hamilton said in a shaky voice. “He’s not worth it.”

Burr’s head snapped up. “Thanks, Alexander. That’s how you always felt, wasn’t it? I wasn’t worth it but pity would be enough. You’re a real prize.”

“Stop being a jerk,” Laurens growled and prodded Burr in the chest. “ _You_ are the reason your life sucks and you can’t have a relationship. Don’t blame us.” He turned around. 

In a whisper, Burr said, “I doubt he loves you either.”

Laurens’ lips parted, teeth bared. His shoulders tensed and every inch of him wanted to wheel around and punch Burr. But he caught sight of Hamilton’s pale face and trembling body. He would be the bigger man. 

Hamilton opened the front door as Laurens stepped away from Burr. It slammed behind them and made Bess howl. 

“You need to leave, Aaron,” Madison said through quivering lips. “You pulled away from us. Don’t act like we abandoned you.”

Burr clenched his jaw and stormed out. He had no ride and was too spitting mad to call Angelica. But he didn’t want to be in the Estates either. Too much had happened there and it all hit him hard as he stepped off the front porch. That was where Mr. Stevens shot Hamilton, where everything spiraled out of control. He and Hamilton had been okay, maybe not great and maybe it still wouldn’t have lasted but it wouldn’t have ended this way. 

Visiting Montpelier was almost worse than if he’d gone to Mount Vernon. Here, they’d all been together as friends: researching, taking care of Madison, making cookies, babysitting. 

Tears burned his eyes and he ran blinding for the front gate. He had to get away. 

Mental anguish prevented him from getting tired as he ran the few miles out of the subdivision. A car braked barely in time in front of him as he bolted across the road. Did someone shout his name or was that in his head? The noise of traffic from the upcoming busy avenue silenced it anyway. 

Had he intended to keep running and chance his life across six lanes of traffic, Burr wasn’t sure. A strong hand caught him and yanked him back from the curb. Burr didn’t fight, more relieved to be stopped and in Washington’s secure embrace.

“Don’t ever make me run again,” Washington said as he panted from the sprint after almost hitting Burr.

“I’m sorry.” Burr pulled back and stepped away but Washington’s iron grip remained on his arm. “Please, let go.”

“Not if you’re planning to run into traffic,” Washington said and winced at the twinge in his chest. Running and panic were not a good combination for his heart, he knew. “Talk to me.”

Burr pulled out his phone. “It’ll be better if I disappear from your life. Let me call my, um...” He trailed off having no word for Theodosia and no desire to explain. “Let go.”

Washington eased his grip but remained ready to grab him again. 

Burr turned away and texted Theodosia. 

She was quick to reply and say she’d come to get him.

“See?” Burr held up his phone to Washington. “I’ll be out of your way. I won’t come back. Your plan to rope me back in didn’t work. I’ve fucked up too many times.” He stepped away from Washington and leaned against the wall boarding the sidewalk. 

Every word out of that boy’s mouth was a cry for help, in Washington’s mind. How many times had he already walked away from Burr? And no time did Burr return in better shape. This would be the last time for sure. Burr would know now that he couldn’t come back. If the boys couldn’t accept him, what was Washington hoping to achieve? He couldn’t save everyone. His wife would remind him of his need for control and Burr had always been the hardest to help. His walls had never been low. It wasn’t worth fighting anymore.

“Goodbye, Aaron.”

Burr turned away, shoulder pressed into the wall. 

Washington trudged back to his car where he’d left it at the entrance to the Estates. He didn’t look back.

At home, he locked himself in the master bedroom and drew a hot bath. He poured himself a full glass of brandy. Even as he continued to pour, he knew this wasn’t self-care and that he would scold any of his boys for drinking away their problems. It had always been so easy to understand Hamilton, the lost angry boy with no ties to anyone. Washington had grown up without a father, too, and a mother eager to keep him broken. Telling Hamilton about his mom had hurt, perhaps more than he realized. He knew his wife thought he coddled their son too much but she’d never been depressed. Washington knew the struggle too well and right then he could feel himself losing the fight to stay strong.

He remained sitting, dressed, on the edge of the tub, full drink in his hand when a knocked sounded on the door.

“Dad?”

“Not now, Alexander.” Washington didn’t raise his eyes from the glass. How many times had he told his boy to come to him when his mental state was bad? Now he understood just how strong Hamilton—or any of his boys—were when they obeyed his advice. He couldn’t heed it himself. It hurt too much to move.

Hamilton persisted and knocked again. “Let me come in.”

Washington wiped at the tears gathering in his eyes. How many times had he seen Hamilton broken? Why did it remain so important that Hamilton not see him that way? He’d never faulted his boys for their depression and anxiety; never saw it as a flaw or a weakness, why did he see it that way in himself? Even to his wife, he’d remained quiet about it, always having the need to remain strong for her even when he knew it didn’t matter. Mental illness wasn’t a flaw to her either. They accepted that all their boys would come to them with baggage; she never loved any of them any less. 

“Dad?” Hamilton knocked again. “I’m going to get Mom, okay?”

Washington pressed a hand against his trembling lips. It wasn’t as if his family had never seen him cry before. Why was his brain yelling at him to dump the drink and put on a smile for his family? Why was it so bad if they saw him at the edge of despair? 

Because who would give them surety that everything would be okay otherwise? Whom could they turn to if they knew he was weak? He had a duty to be strong for his family. 

Yet...

He hated when his boys thought they couldn’t have or show emotions. He hated hearing people tell their sons to “buck up” or “be a man” when something hurt, physically or mentally. Hamilton could show emotions now but what happened when he had children of his own? Would he assume he had to be this strong, stoic father and hide his mental illness because that’s what his dad did? He was teaching what he hated.

“George?” Mrs. Washington tapped on the door. “May we come in?”

Washington stared at the drink in his hand. He could still dump it, unlock the door, claim everything was fine. But... he was tired. “Come in.” His voice cracked. 

Mrs. Washington unlocked the door and Hamilton hurried inside in front of her. 

“Dad, what happened?” Hamilton took the drink from Washington’s hand and set it aside. “Are you okay?”

Washington met his wife’s eyes and saw only love and concern, no pity for his brokenness, no shame that he couldn’t be resilient. Had she always known?

“Dad, you’re scaring me.” Hamilton tugged at the front of Washington’s shirt. “Dad?”

“Shh, Alex.” Washington pulled him close and held him on his lap. He wrapped his arms tight around his son and clung to the boy who had given him life again so many years ago. “It’s been a hard year.” The words came out thick as he struggled to swallow. “You know what it’s like—” he paused to find some control “—to lose hope. When everything piles up and you feel like a failure.”

“Dad...” Hamilton gripped Washington’s large hand. “You’re not but I understand.” He sniffled. “You don’t always have to be strong.” He snuggled closer, head tucked under his dad’s chin. “I love you.”

Washington closed his eyes. “Thank you, my dear boy.” He kissed Hamilton’s head. “I love you, too.”

Mrs. Washington rested a small, plump hands on each of their heads. “You didn’t have to suffer, George, I would have understood.”

“I needed to be strong,” said Washington, voice muffled against Hamilton’s head. “For you, for the boys.”

Mrs. Washington rubbed his head. “You were, you are. But you need to heed your own advice.”

“I’ve heeded some of it,” Washington said. He took a deep breath and shifted Hamilton off his lap. “Counseling, medication, it’s how I knew it worked.” He looked at his wife. “I just couldn’t tell you.”

She nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. 

“I shouldn’t have asked about your mom,” Hamilton murmured. “Bringing up the past is never good.”

Washington shifted his attention to his son. “I shouldn’t have kept all this inside for as long as I have. That’s where I definitely didn’t practice what I preached.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me, too.” Hamilton stopped a yawn. “Nap and then can we talk?”

“Of course.” Washington stood and wrapped his arms around his family. “Thank you.”

 

After Hamilton caught up Laurens—waiting patiently downstairs—on the family crisis, he headed home to let everyone rest. He expected his own painful conversation later to confirm to his boyfriend that he had slept with Burr.

Mrs. Washington kept the dogs quiet while her men slept and she had a quiet cry over everything they suffered through. Needlessly, too, since she’d known for years that Washington suffered from depression. Knowing he didn’t want to talk about it, she’d kept quiet, while she knew not every time he left to “run errands” was for that purpose. They had done everything they could to make sure their boys felt comfortable to talk about their mental health yet neglected to ever have the conversation with each other. She didn’t know what to do with that knowledge other than cry and resolve not to close those doors to each other again.

After their nap, Hamilton and Washington sat in the family room. Potato sat on Hamilton’s lap with Noodle beside him. 

“You saw Aaron, too, didn’t you?” Hamilton said.

“Yes,” Washington said. “Knowing that I couldn’t do anything for him...” A sense of failure remained in his mind that fought for control.

“We can’t help everyone,” Hamilton said, “and sometimes it’s healthier to let go. I made peace with Aaron not being able to accept my illness and I’m not angry at him.” He focused on petting the dogs. “It was weird to see him at Montpelier since so much happened between us there—between our whole team—and it made me miss having him in my life. But he’s never been easy to understand, at least not for me. We weren’t compatible.”

“I should have taken your advice and walked away,” Washington said. “You knew what you needed to do to heal but I couldn’t let go and had to pick at it once I saw the chance to check on him. I shouldn’t have involved Jemmy but I figured he was the least intense and Aaron might talk to him. But you were right to walk away. Aaron is healing on his own. He’ll be okay without my meddling.” 

“Good.” Hamilton met his dad’s eyes. “I’m proud of you. That was a big step.”

Washington shook his head at him but a smile started to tug at his lips. “Thank you, Alexander.”

Hamilton leaned against him. “What do I say to John? I think he and Aaron slept together while I was sick.”

“Acknowledge it, at least,” Washington advised. “He was hurting. We were all scared.”

“It seems so long ago,” Hamilton murmured. He pushed up the bracelet and stared at the pink scar. The angry red had faded but the scar remained shiny and puckered. 

“You’re doing amazing.” It hurt to look at the scar and he was selfishly glad Hamilton wore the bracelet.

“Can we watch TV?” Hamilton asked as he adjusted the bracelet.

Washington agreed and handed him the remote from the drawer on the nearby end table.

Hamilton stretched out on the couch with his legs curled around the dogs and his head in Washington’s lap. Mrs. Washington soon joined them at sat in her husband’s recliner and took up her knitting.

“What’re you making?” Washington asked.

A soft smile touched her face. “A baby blanket.”


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King

“Bastard, orphan, son of a whore,” sing-songed the richest snot at law school who called himself King.

Hamilton bristled at the words, frozen in the hallway.

“And, a what—” he yanked out the hair tie from Hamilton’s red hair, “—Irishman?”

“Scottish,” Hamilton growled. “I’m none of those other things anymore.”

“Didn’t know you could change how you were born.” He flung the hair tie at Hamilton and it bounced off his forehead. “Or who your mother was.”

“Leave me alone.” Hamilton turned away.

“You’re not as smart as you think, McStutters,” King said. “You don’t belong here.”

Baring his teeth, Hamilton spun around and shoved the kid who stood a head taller. “Debate me then.” He’d never gotten such strong high school ambiance before but right then he could have been back in any of the half dozen high schools he’d been to and struggled to fight for his honor with his voice.

“Gladly.” The rich kid set down his fancy messenger bag and cracked his knuckles. “Pick a law and tell me why it’s wrong.”

For five minutes, Hamilton spouted off law before a familiar voice called out to him.

“Alexander, I’ve been looking for you.” Jefferson grabbed his wrist and dragged him away.

“I was winning,” Hamilton complained.

“No, you were doing his homework.” Jefferson stopped and rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Those rich snots don’t want to work and will pick on you to get you to do the work for them.” He slipped the hair tie off his wrist and smoothed back Hamilton’s hair and secured it. “Don’t talk to them.”

“No one else talks to me here,” Hamilton mumbled.

“Consider that a blessing.” He tapped Hamilton’s nose. “I’ll see you later.”

***

Heading down the hall, Jefferson sped up when he saw his favorite professor, William Lewis. He was Jefferson’s youngest teacher and the only one yet to earn his respect. “Good morning.”

Professor Lewis smiled. “Morning, Thomas.” He held up a thick book. “Found this for you.”

“Is that—” Jefferson handed over his coffee and took the book. “Yes!” He leafed carefully through the pages of the old book on the Revolutionary War. “I can’t believe you found it.”

“I have my ways,” Professor Lewis said. “The one condition is you let me read it first.”

“Of course.” Jefferson traded back the book for his coffee.

They were deep in conversation when an all too familiar voice echoed from down the hall followed by the deeper bellow of the King, who everyone else tried to avoid.

Jefferson handed over his coffee again. “Excuse me; I have to stop a murder.”

He hurried down the hallway until he caught sight of Hamilton in full debate mode: his voice loud and clear, his slender body rising up on its toes as his hands moved in every direction.

King—who’s dad was a professor and had a similar amount of pull over the school as Washington did at his college—stood his ground with ease and had a rebuttal for each of Hamilton’s statements.

As Jefferson stepped closer, the gathered crowd moved back. “That’s enough, buddy.” Jefferson grabbed Hamilton around the middle and hoisted him off the ground. “You’ve caused enough trouble this week.” He was thankful the semester was almost over.

“Put me down.” Hamilton squirmed in Jefferson’s strong grasp.

“Nope.” He carried Hamilton back to an amused Professor Lewis and told him, “You’ll likely have the pleasure of this mess next semester.” He set Hamilton down and rested a hand on his head. “Alexander, I’m glad you found some of your arrogance but try not to make an enemy of the richest kid in school.”

Hamilton folded his arms. “What else is there to do then?”

“Study?” Professor Lewis suggested.

“He doesn’t need to,” Jefferson said. “This is Alexander, Washington’s son.”

A smile teased across Professor Lewis’ face. “Ah, I’m familiar with Washington. Great man. We’ll expect remarkable things from you, Alexander.”

Hamilton’s face drooped.

Jefferson swooped in. “Nah, Alexander will do as suits him and that’ll be enough.” He squeezed Hamilton’s shoulder and looked at the professor. “Show him the book, sir.”

Professor Lewis handed over the old book. “You like American history, too?”

“Yeah.” Hamilton turned the pages slowly as his eyes caught a word here and there. He stopped to study a map. “Medieval England, as well, because dragons.”

“Alexander is writing a story about dragons,” Jefferson said. He draped his arms across his friend’s chest as he stood behind him.

“That’s awesome,” Professor Lewis said. “Good luck on it.”

A darker red filled Hamilton’s florid cheeks. “Thank you,” he mumbled. He handed back the book and tilted his head up. “Let go of me, T.”

“No, because I want to talk to you.” He bade Professor William goodbye and steered Hamilton down the hall. “Why are you trying to pick a fight with everyone? Are you stressed out?”

Hamilton nodded. “I’m not smart anymore.”

Jefferson stopped him. “Yes, you are. Why do you think otherwise?”

“That one speech was a fluke,” he murmured as he stared at the ground. “I can’t be a lawyer.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re still not smart.” He touched Hamilton’s chin and pushed his head up to see the tears forming in his friend’s eyes. “You don’t have to finish law school.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” The tears spilled down his cheeks. “Did I waste four years in college?”

Jefferson pulled him close and let Hamilton’s sobs muffle against his chest. “You’ll figure it out. Try not to be too hard on yourself, bud.”

“I can’t help it.” His hands gripped Jefferson’s shirt. “I’ve had to fight my whole life to amount to something. When I was in high school and Dad asked me what I planned to do with my life, I told him drugs because what else did I hope to achieve as a bastard orphan in foster care?”

Jefferson stroked his hair. “You’re not in foster care anymore, Alex,” he reminded. “You’re almost twenty-three with a family and a college degree. You don’t have to fight so hard; you’re already something.”

“I don’t feel like it.” He stared up at Jefferson.

“That’s the depression and anxiety talking.” Jefferson bopped his nose. “You are something and it’s awesome, trust me. Come on.” He held out his hand. “I’ll buy you lunch, get you out of the mindset of being an orphan in high school.”

Hamilton took his hand. “I don’t deserve how nice you are to me.”

“And I don’t deserve you second guessing my wisdom.” Jefferson squeezed his hand. “After Jemmy, you’re my best friend. I hope you don’t doubt that.”

Tears welled up in Hamilton’s eyes again. “I won’t.”


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you niftywaffle for the Madison family ideas!

Fighting back a yawn, Madison froze when a knock sounded on Washington’s office door. No one had ever bothered him before when he was doing his work and he didn’t know whether to respond or not.

His heart pounded as the door opened a sliver and it took him a few deep breaths to calm down after he saw it was Monroe.

“May I come in?” Monroe asked.

“Yeah.” Madison let out his breath slowly.

“I hadn’t seen you in a while,” Monroe explained as his hands clutched the strap of his bag.

Madison rubbed his eyes. “I’ve been too tired to stay later. Four hours is all I can handle before I need a nap.”

The chair opposite Madison squeaked as Monroe pulled it out to sit. “Do you know what’s making you so tired?”

“No.” He continued to rub at his eyes. “I just get this way sometimes.”

“That sucks.” Monroe dug into his bag and pulled out a chocolate bar. “Maybe this will help for a little bit.”

Madison took the candy. “Thank you. Maybe tomorrow we could have lunch.”

“I’d like that.” Monroe focused on zipping his bag. “Don’t, like, exhaust yourself, though. I could always come over on the weekend.”

Fighting a yawn, Madison said, “As long as you don’t mind just watching a movie.”

“That would be fine.” Monroe checked his watch. “I have to go but let me know about Saturday.”

Madison nodded and watched him leave. Once the door closed, he rested his head on the desk but a text from Hamilton soon disturbed him.

 _I never got to tell you why I came over the other day_ , he wrote. _This sounds horrible and I hate myself over it, but I never realized you had turned twenty-one and you didn’t have a party. I wanted to apologize for forgetting then and it taking me forever to remember._

A tired smile touched Madison’s lips at his friend’s baseless worry. He replied, _It’s all good, Alex! I’d rather forget I had turned twenty-one anyway. Getting old sucks. You’re forgiven!_

_Thanks, Jemmy. How are you feeling?_

_Tired._

_Poor, little duck._ He added on several sad faces.

Madison couldn’t find the energy to think of a reply and let the screen go dark. He rested his head back on the desk and was asleep when Washington returned a half hour before noon.

“Jemmy.” Washington stroked his back. “Are you sick?”

Madison’s arms shook as he pushed himself up. “Tired.”

Washington touched his forehead but he didn’t feel warm. “Your mom will be here soon.”

Madison set his head back down.

Not having the heart to ask him to move, Washington took the other seat and wasted time on his phone until he could use his computer. At noon, he walked Madison out to the parking lot, holding his arm, as he barely seemed able to stand.

Mrs. Madison got out of her car as they neared. “Jemmy?”

“Tired,” he repeated and got in the passenger seat.

She exchanged a concerned glance with Washington.

“He can stay home tomorrow,” Washington told her. “I’m worried about him.”

Mrs. Madison could only nod as she glanced through the windshield at her son already asleep in the car.

When they got home, Madison went right up to bed. He woke long enough to have some homemade vegetable soup and went back to sleep. After ten that night, he woke with a queasy stomach and just made it to the bathroom in time to puke.

Once he was certain, everything was up; he headed for his parent's room to inform them that he didn’t feel well. The hallway was kept faintly lit with night-lights since children getting up was a frequent occurrence.

The door was closed and he pushed it open gently. “Mom?”

The room was dark but with enough of a faint glow from the window to see the shape of his father roll off his mother.

Madison covered his eyes at once. “Oh, my God! No more babies!” He shut the door, stomach queasy again.

He waited in the hallway until his dad opened the door.

“What?” Mr. Madison asked, peeved.

“I threw up,” Madison said.

He sighed. “Did you make it to the bathroom?”

“Yeah.” He couldn't look at his dad in the dimly lit hallway.

“Go back to bed. I’ll check on you later.”

Madison hurried back to his bedroom.

Mr. Madison returned to his bed.

“What was wrong?” his wife asked.

“He threw up.”

“Before or after he came in here?” she teased.

“Ha ha,” Mr. Madison deadpanned. “I’ll check on him in a little bit. I’m sure he’s fine. Are you going to sleep?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Madison snuggled close to him.

***

On Saturday, Madison got up around ten and made his way to the kitchen with slow steps. He’d slept most of Friday and no longer felt sick to his stomach but energy was difficult to obtain. He found most of his family at the kitchen table pouring over a book. “What’re you looking at?”

“Photo album,” Nelly said. “Bess is old enough to appreciate them now.”

Madison crowded in next to his sister as she opened their parent’s wedding album.

“We looked at Bess’ baby book first,” Mrs. Madison said as she watched her oldest daughter turn the pages.

“I’m cute,” Bess said from her spot on her mom’s lap. She leaned across the table and pointed at her dad in a wedding photo. “Who that?”

“Daddy,” Nelly said.

A howl of laughter escaped the little girl. “Daddy had hair!”

Mr. Madison rubbed at the ever-growing bald spot on top of his head.

“And was skinnier,” Sarah added. “Mommy, you’re just as beautiful.”

Mrs. Madison smiled. “Thank you, Sarah.”

Bess turned several pages. “No babies?”

“Not yet,” Mrs. Madison said.

Madison smirked and pointed at his mom’s stomach in the picture. “There, though, right?”

“James,” she scolded.

“Ugh,” Nelly groaned. “Yuck, Jemmy.”

Madison rolled his eyes. He’d recovered from walking in on his parents, as it wasn’t the first time he’d done it.

Mr. Madison cleared his throat. “Are you children done insulting your parents?”

Madison and Nelly glanced at each other and shrugged.

Bess reached for a different album and opened it. “Jemmy!”

Madison glanced at the page she’d opened the album, too: his fourth birthday in the hospital. He’d had an asthma attack two days before and was put on oxygen. He saw his mom brush Bess’ hand out of the way and close the book. They didn’t need any more reminders of how sick he’d been and continued to be.

Mrs. Madison got up and set Bess on the floor. She touched her eldest child’s cheek. “What do you want for breakfast?”

After eating a chocolate chip pancake, Madison returned to his bed and waited for Monroe to come over. His parents agreed rather than argue with him but insisted he remain in bed. When Monroe arrived, Nelly showed him upstairs.

“Yay, someone to entertain me,” Madison said when Monroe entered his room. “My family is being too overprotective.”

“I’m sure they mean well,” Monroe said as he twisted his watch. His eyes roved around Madison’s large bedroom filled with stuffed animals and many unicorns.

“Sit.” Madison patted the bed. “Do you want something to drink? I could have Nelly bring up some pop.”

“No, it’s okay.” Monroe sat at the edge of the bed.

“Relax.” Madison nudged him. “Take your shoes off, get comfortable. Well, after you pick out a movie.” He pointed to the shelf of DVDs across from his bed. “Whatever you want.”

Monroe shuffled across the room and studied the numerous choices. He forgot how sheltered he was until he read the titles and had heard of very few. He picked out several that looked interesting and asked Madison many questions before he decided.

“You’ve never seen a PG-13 movie?” Madison said after Monroe was quick to veto one of the movies based on the rating.

“My parents—”

“You’re nineteen,” Madison reminded him. “I’m pretty sure you’d be able to handle a little violence and some swear words.”

Monroe’s lips pinched together.

“But your choice.” Madison forced a smile.

Monroe opted for a Disney movie, which was Madison’s preference anyway. They watched quietly and Monroe kept his shoes on and remained sitting upright.

“If I fall asleep, don’t take offense,” Madison said after he yawned several times in a row. “Don’t think you need to leave either,” he added. “I’m glad of your company. Thomas has to work and I don’t like being alone.”

Monroe nodded. “I need to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.” Madison willed his eyes to stay open.

“I don’t mean to offend you,” Monroe mumbled, “but I’m a little uncomfortable sitting in bed with you.”

Exhaustion made the statement funnier that it should have been and Madison giggled. “Sorry. I forgot I’m the only gay person you know. I’ll behave myself. You can relax.”

Monroe’s lips remained in a thin line. “I don’t know why you’re laughing.”

“Because I’m tired and now I’m thinking about how many times Thomas and I have slept together in this bed and how uncouth that is to you.”

“I’m trying not to imagine it.” Monroe twisted his watch.

“Oh, I meant literally sleeping.” Madison grinned. “Thomas is ace. We’ve only… Yeah, TMI, sorry.”

An almost-smile fought at Monroe’s lips. “Okay. Um…” He stared back at the TV.

Madison yawned. “Would you please take your shoes off and relax, though? You’re making me anxious.”

“Sorry.” Monroe untied his tennis shoes and slipped them off. He stretched his legs out on the bed and leaned back against a pillow. “Better?”

“Thank you.” He fell asleep a few minutes later.

Monroe covered him with a blanket and continued to watch the movie. When it ended, he put in another. Montpelier was nice, he decided. Madison had his eccentricities but he was nice, too. Maybe someday he could let his friend know of his own idiosyncrasies.


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bachelor Party

The doorbell rang followed by the pounding of feet on the stairs and several dogs barking. The Washington’s exchanged a bemused smile as they ate dinner. It was the night of Lafayette’s bachelor party and Hamilton had been waiting for Laurens to arrive so they could get ready.

“I thought I gave you a key?” Hamilton said as they went upstairs.

“Yeah, but I like hearing you run to answer.” Laurens caught his hand and pulled him close in the hallway.

Hamilton closed his eyes and rested his head against Laurens’ chest. He flinched but began to grin as Laurens’ hands reached under his shirt. “Wait until we’re in my room,” he whispered and broke into giggles as his boyfriend tickled him.

Downstairs, Mrs. Washington looked at her husband. “Is he ready?”

“I have my doubts,” Washington admitted. “But we can hardly forbid him to go to his brother’s bachelor party or drink or have sex. I’ll say something, though.”

“Thank goodness you’re nosy.” She stood and cleared the table.

Forty-five minutes later, Hamilton and Laurens stood in the family room doorway. “We’re ready,” Hamilton said as Washington was going to drive them. A van had been arranged to take everyone home after the party.

Washington got out of his recliner and handed his car keys to Laurens.

Once the door from the house to the garage closed, Washington told his son, “Be careful how much you drink and think about what you might do. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Hamilton nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good boy.” Washington kissed his head and followed him into the garage.

They arrived a few minutes after Mulligan. Everything was already in place but they double-checked the stock of alcohol.

Charles Lee was the next to arrive. He, Mulligan and Laurens caught up leaving Hamilton to stare at random things until Jefferson showed up.

“Where’s James?” Hamilton asked and peered behind Jefferson.

“Home,” Jefferson said. “His parents said no.”

“He’s twenty-one.”

“I also said no.” Jefferson headed further into the room to stake out a good place to stand out of the way. “Jemmy doesn’t need to see strippers or get a lap dance.”

“Says the ace,” Hamilton teased. 

Jefferson pushed him away playfully. “I’m ace, not naive and innocent. Plus he isn’t feeling well and this would do him in.”

High school and college friends of Lafayette’s began to pour in and the room grew noisier. The din reached its pitch when Lafayette arrived and everyone helped themselves to drinks.

Laurens joined Hamilton and Jefferson with a drink in hand. “Try this.” He handed the cup to Hamilton. “It’s disgusting.”

Hamilton took a sip and his eyes watered as he choked. “What is in that?” He handed it to Jefferson.

“I don’t know,” Laurens said, half shouting above the clamor of talk and music.

Jefferson took a sip, gagged and took another. “It burns so bad.”

“I can’t feel my lips,” Hamilton said as he took the cup back and swallowed down another shot. He returned the drink to Laurens as Lafayette headed their way.

“Little lion!” Lafayette lifted Hamilton off the ground. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Same.” Hamilton wrapped his legs around his brother not trusting his grip. “Congrats, Laf. Us groomsmen have a surprise later for you,” he teased.

“I’ve been afraid of that for weeks.” Lafayette set him down with a grin. “Get a drink, bro.”

It took less than an hour before the guests were drunk or at least buzzed. The strippers came out, one male and one female. Laurens and Mulligan were quick to move away from the woman and stood next to a larger guy who gave Mulligan a quick smile that made Mulligan’s face turn red. 

Hamilton stood in the middle of the room and Jefferson dragged himself away from the wall to join him. “I don’t get it,” he said, voice loud from the noise and alcohol. “Like, it just looks painful and dumb.”

“It is,” Hamilton replied, equally loud. 

Laurens stumbled over to them. “Hammy!” He threw an arm around his boyfriend.

Hamilton breathed in his sweaty, musky scent and pressed his lips in close to his ear. “Give me a lap dance.” His drunken brain almost added something about Laurens having been a stripper but was saved by Laurens’ lips pressing into his.

“Okay.” He pushed Hamilton toward one of the chairs in the room. 

Shaking his head, Jefferson headed for the bar and found himself drawn into a conversation with one of Lafayette’s high school friends who spewed random words in French, as his drunk mind couldn’t tell the difference.

“You could strip a little,” suggested Hamilton, face flushed.

Laurens straddled his legs and kissed him. He drew back and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Three buttons down and Hamilton moaned. He spread his legs a little beneath Laurens to ease some of the tightness of his jeans between his legs.

“Desperate?” Laurens teased. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and ground into Hamilton.

“Yes.” He brushed the shirt off his boyfriend’s shoulders and kissed at his neck, shoulders, and collarbone and left a trail of bruises.

“There’s a bathroom.” Laurens indicated with his head to the back of the room.

Hamilton stopped sucking on his skin to look. “Yes.”

Laurens swung off him and pulled him off the chair. He grinned as he glanced at Hamilton’s crotch. “Way to not look obvious.”

“I can’t help it,” Hamilton groaned. He pressed himself against Laurens and made him shiver.

***

“We’ve been waiting for you guys,” Mulligan said when they stumbled out of the bathroom unable to take their hands off each other and with huge grins on their faces. “Laf needs his lap dance.”

“We’re here,” Hamilton said and giggled. 

Mulligan rolled his eyes. “Lafayette!” he shouted.

Terror filled Lafayette’s eyes and he clutched his drink. “You’re really going to do this to me?”

“Yup.” He dragged his best friend toward the middle of the room and pushed him in a chair. “You want me or the professional?”

“Professional,” Lafayette said but pulled Mulligan close to whisper, “Henry Knox has been watching you all evening. Take a chance, Herc.”

Mulligan glanced at the larger guy who held up a drink. He went over to him.

The male stripper, who Mulligan tipped generously to do this, sat on Lafayette.

“I can’t watch,” Hamilton said and pressed his face against Laurens’ neck and kissed him.

Lafayette was a good sport as was the stripper who had a sense of humor about the situation and played it up for Lafayette’s friends at the groom-to-be’s expense. Lafayette was flushed and grinning when he finished, though.

“Let’s have another round!” Mulligan called out and drinks were passed around. “I’ll save my better speech for the wedding,” he continued, voice booming above the drunk chatter. “But Laf is my best mate and he deserves the world. Congrats, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Montier!”

Lafayette groaned. “Not in public!”

“My turn!” Hamilton shouted and turned into a puddle of giggles and fell against Laurens. 

“Take your time, little lion,” Lafayette teased.

Hamilton grinned. “To my brother.” He struggled for control and lost. He bent double in laughter.

Laurens patted his back. “Lovely toast, Hammy.”

Wheezing, Hamilton tried again. “For always—”

By then half the room had caught his giggles.

“Well, I know you love me,” Lafayette called above the ruckus. “John, anything to say?”

Laurens raised his drink. “If you were gay, I would have slept with you during debate.”

“Thank you, John.” Lafayette rolled his eyes. “That was poetic.”

Laurens winked.

“Heyheyhey!” Hamilton grabbed his boyfriend’s shirt. “You mine.” He pressed his lips into Laurens’.

Mulligan quickly grabbed their drinks before they spilled and handed one to Henry Knox. 

“Dinner sometime this week?” Knox asked him.

“As long as we get dessert,” Mulligan replied.

Lafayette shot his best man a thumbs up and drained his glass. 


	65. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear, Theodosia

It was never hard to wheedle out of Angelica what Washington’s boys were up to, despite how much it hurt to know. After seeing them at Montpelier and having Washington walk away from him, he couldn’t get his college friends out of his head. He wanted them back and couldn’t focus.

Tonight, he knew, they were at Lafayette’s bachelor party, drinking and having fun, all of them together. Well, maybe not Madison, he thought. Their little duck—

He couldn’t take it and opened a bottle of vodka.

Angelica had gone upstate with her sister’s to spend the weekend. He remained alone, as always. Soon drunk, he contemplated calling Theodosia.

No, he’d do one better and go to her house. He’d found her address on the divorce paperwork she had him look over.

Burr grabbed his coat and headed outside. The cold numbed his ears but he didn’t bother to go back inside for a hat. 

He stood at the bus stop for a half hour not even aware of the passing time or cold. When the bus arrived, he stumbled on board and fell into a seat. Since he paid, the bus driver didn’t concern himself with the wasted passenger.

While he got drunk, Burr had memorized the route and it remained the only thing in his muddled mind. He got off at the third stop and staggered toward the ritzy, gated community a few blocks away. The gate was locked and no one at the station but Burr had the code and the gate slid open. The second gate at the Prevost driveway stopped him but only for a moment and he burned his hands climbing over the iron gate in the cold, a feat he’d never been able to achieve sober. 

He unlocked the front door with the key Theodosia had given him after a few too many drinks. Inside, though, his memorized route ended and his drunken brain comprehended nothing. He wandered through the dark house, bumping into walls and chairs until he found the stairs and a lighted hallway. The fancy double doors at the end of the hall made sense to be the master bedroom and he made his way down the seemingly endless hallway. At last, his hand—that would hurt like hell once he was sober—found the knob and opened the door. 

The room was dark but the block of light from the hallway made the figure in the bed stir.

“Jacques?” Theodosia murmured.

“It’s me,” Burr said and banged into a dresser.

Theodosia turned on a light. “What in the world, Aaron?” She got out of bed and grabbed his arm as he continued to stumble over his own feet. She sat him down on the bed. “How did you not die on the way over here?”

Burr’s head tipped forward and Theodosia managed to stop him before he faceplanted into her breasts, suddenly conscious of her silky negligee. “How much did you drink?”

“Lots.” Burr’s eyes closed.

“Well, let’s hope Jacques doesn’t come home early from his business trip.” She unzipped Burr’s coat. “You’re frozen, Aaron.” She tossed his coat on a nearby chair, shivering herself and wishing to get back in her warm bed. She hurried to get off Burr’s boots and found his jeans soaked from the snow. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she murmured and unbuttoned his jeans. She tugged them off. “Get in bed.”

Burr roused himself enough to roll over but struggled to get under the blankets.

Once he managed, Theodosia closed the bedroom door and joined him. She turned off the light and lay on her back, waiting for him to make a drunken move. But he was already asleep, respectfully on his own side of the bed. 

 

The clinking of a spoon against a cup woke Burr and aggravated his headache. “Angelica, stop,” he muttered, eyes closed.

“Good morning,” Theodosia said and blew on her coffee.

Burr sat up too fast and bile burned his throat. “What the fuck?”

“I wondered how much you would remember,” she said. “You came over last night drunk as a skunk. Climbed the front gate according to the security footage—that I had to erase. How are your hands?”

Burr stared at his blistered hands. “I...”

“None of this is endearing, Aaron.” Theodosia set down her cup and curled her legs on the bed. “If Jacques had been home, he would have shot you for trespassing. Not to mention how much trouble we’d both be in.”

“I’m really sorry, Theo.” Burr massaged his throbbing head with his knuckles. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you were not. You have an incredible amount of demons for one so young.” She reached for her coffee and took a sip.

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I’m having a hard time re-losing my friends.”

“I understand but I’m still not very happy with you.” She got off the bed and picked a piece of lint off the black leggings she wore under an oversized sweater. “Rest some more if you need to or take a shower.” She left the room.

Burr lay back down but his stomach was quick to protest and he hurried to get out of bed and throw up in the toilet in the en-suite bathroom.

He decided on a shower since he couldn’t remember the last time he had bathed. Finished, he realized he didn’t have a towel and was glad to hear Theodosia in the bedroom.

“Theo, can you get me a towel?”

Theodosia came in the bathroom and retrieved one from the linen closest. She tossed it over the shower door. “Helpless much?”

Burr dried off and wrapped it around his waist before he left the shower. “Kind of, yeah.”

“I’m not going to be your mother, Aaron.” Theodosia stared at his face.

“I know.” Burr watched his feet until her fuzzy socks came into view. He glanced up as her hands rested on his bare shoulders.

“I need you to do three things for me,” she said. “Never drink like this again. Buy me dinner. Talk to Washington.”

Burr grimaced. “Two out of three, no problem. Why do I have to talk to Washington?”

Her hand strayed across his damp skin. “Because you’re hurting and I know he can put things into perspective for you.”

Burr shook his head. “He walked away, Theo. He’s not going to see me.”

“George Washington doesn’t give up on his boys.” She rose up on her toes and kissed his forehead. “Jacques called; he’s still safely away in Arizona. You can stay with me tonight.”

Burr glanced at her lips but she backed away and left the room. He dressed, half-wondering who had taken off his jeans and hoped his first time with Theodosia hadn’t been lost in his drunken haze.

He took Theodosia out for dinner that night and tried not to thirst for wine or anything with alcohol.

“May we talk about the divorce?” Burr asked after they exhausted chatting about photography.

“Well, I’m going to have to tell Jacques soon.” Theodosia sipped her water. “It’s as organized on my end as I can get it without knowing what he’s going to go after.” She poked at an ice cube. “I’m scared to do it.”

“You won’t be alone,” reminded Burr. “I know I don’t have any space but my apartment is open to you.”

Theodosia nodded. “I’m sure your roommate would be thrilled with that prospect,” she teased.

Burr made a face. “Well, she has other options of where to spend a night. I don’t want you feeling desolate.”

“Thank you.”

They finished the meal and Burr paid. Back at the Prevost house, Theodosia headed to the kitchen. “Did you save room for dessert?”

“Of course.” Burr followed her.

“Cheesecake or Oreo’s?”

Burr’s mouth watered. “This will sound stupid, but I’m dying for some Oreo’s and milk.”

Theodosia giggled. “Then that’s what we shall have, Mr. Burr.” She poured two glasses of milk and handed him the package of cookies. They headed upstairs and sat on the bed. “Don’t worry about crumbs,” Theodosia said. “I’ll have to wash the bedding tomorrow anyway.” She curled up against him and rested her head on his chest. “Soon, I promise, Aaron.”

“Your hesitation is scaring me,” Burr admitted as he dunked a cookie in his milk.

She nibbled on a cookie before answering. “I’ve known Jacques since I was sixteen. My parents were thrilled that such an accomplished, older man was interested in me and wanted to marry me and pay for my college education. They made the choice. I’ve never made a life-changing decision myself. I’m scared out of my mind, Aaron.”

“I’m sorry.” Burr stroked her hair. “I forgot how different we grew up. I’ve only been alone. You never have.”

She nodded and sat up to face him. “I do love you but I can’t live with you right away if that’s your plan. I need to be on my own and know what it’s like. I need to know who I am.”

Burr studied his glass of milk. On one hand, he understood her desire to live alone and find herself. He enjoyed it himself and more often than not wished for the solitary lifestyle again. But if he could have Theodosia to live with that’s what he wanted and he didn’t want to wait longer. But that was selfish and she needed her independence. “Whatever you need, Theo.” He met her dark eyes. “I want you to be happy.”

A smile brightened her face and she kissed his lips. “You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”

“No…” He barely stopped from making a face. “You’re going to get a cat?”

“Yeah, something to keep me company.” She slipped her hand in his. “I’ve always wanted one but Jacques doesn’t like animals. I’m thinking an older cat that’ll enjoy a quiet house and a lap to sit on.”

 _Be supportive_. “Good idea.” He eased his hand free and reached for another cookie. “I have to ask this because it’s bothering me.”

Theodosia’s alarmed face stared at him. “What?”

“Jacques knew you at sixteen.” Burr licked his lips. “You barely look twenty-five now; I’m not imaging you looked mature as a teenager. What was his interest?”

Theodosia sighed. “Don’t go there, Aaron.”

“Theo—”

“I said no.” She turned her attention to her milk.

“If he’s ever hurt you—”

“Aaron, shut up!” Theodosia got off the bed, splashing milk on the comforter. She went inro the bathroom and slammed the door.

He gave her a few minutes to herself before he knocked. “I won’t ask again, I promise. But I know about being taken advantage of. You have my sympathy.”

Theodosia opened the door and wrapped her arms around him. “I just want a fresh start with you.”

“Done, Theodosia.” Burr brushed her hair back and kissed her neck. “If…maybe…”

She stepped back from him and pushed him on the bed.

A grin stretched across Burr’s face. “Yes?”

“Yes.”


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington doesn't know what he did.

Not willing to ask Washington directly, Burr had Angelica question Jefferson on when Washington was most likely to be home. The response was any evening except Thursday, which was bingo night.

“So, we’ll stop by Thursday,” Burr told Theodosia while at work. “If he’s not home—”

“Mr. Burr,” Theodosia scolded. “I remember very well that that is the one night he is not home. Don’t think you can get out of this. We’ll go tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow is Tuesday,” he whined.

She took his hand and kissed his fingers. “Thursday wouldn’t work because you might get lucky that night if we go tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow it is.”

It snowed on Tuesday and Burr tried to use that as an excuse but Theodosia was firm and they headed for Mount Vernon after work. The front gate was open as usual and she parked in the driveway.

“I’m going to be sick,” Burr complained. “What am I supposed to say?”

“Whatever it is in your heart that is making you miserable,” Theodosia said.

“I’m better now.”

“Get out of the car, Mr. Burr.”

He dragged himself out and she followed him up the porch steps.

Dogs barked as the doorbell rang and Washington soon opened the front door. Not knowing Theodosia, it took him a minute to comprehend who was standing bundled up on his doorstep. “Aaron, I didn’t expect to see you. Come in.”

Burr shuffled inside and an ache settled in his chest to be back in Mount Vernon. It still smelled the same, like vanilla, and remained warm and secure. A forever-safe haven. There was a new dog in the pack that gave him the same evil eye Potato did. Potomac greeted him with a happy bark and jumped on his leg. “Um, this is Theodosia.” Burr rubbed the back of his neck.

Washington nodded to her with a faint smile and was glad to see his wife come out of the kitchen.

“Aaron, it’s good to see you,” Mrs. Washington said. “Theodosia, would you like some tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” Theodosia followed her back into the kitchen.

Washington indicated toward the hallway to his office.

“Is Alex home?” Burr asked as he followed Washington.

“No.” Washington closed the office door and moved to the corner chairs. “I’m glad you came back,” he said, “but I’m apprehensive as to why.”

Burr took a seat and picked at his fingernails. It was stupid to come here. He couldn’t just say he missed them and expect to be accepted and loved. He’d been a jerk. He’d hurt Hamilton. He wasn’t loyal or dependable and his college friends were better off without him. But he didn’t want to continue to sabotage himself and live miserably. He had to ask.

“I don’t expect your trust,” he said, “but I would like a second chance.” He kept his eyes down. “I know I’ve hurt your family and I’ve made bad choices but you guys have always been like family and—”

“I’ve forgiven you many times, Aaron,” Washington interrupted.

“I understand,” Burr mumbled.

“No, you do not, son.” Washington leaned forward. “If you are truly sorry, you have my forgiveness again. I can’t speak for the other boys but if you accept my help and affection, it’s always been yours.”

Burr pinched his bottom lip. “I was going to fight you on this,” he said, “and now I don’t think I’m worthy of your compassion.” He met Washington’s eyes. “I gave Alex anxiety. I’ve abandoned him a hundred times. Sir, you should have slammed that door in my face.”

Washington leaned back in his chair. “Alexander has always had anxiety. You left because your sister passed away and you had no understanding on how to cope. You’ve had some harsh words for all your friends and for that, I should have left you outside. I don’t expect John to forgive you—and frankly, I don’t think the two of you should ever speak again—but Alex has told me he holds no anger toward you. Although, he has also said that leaving you was the better choice.” He tapped on his lips. “I forgive and I get hurt and I do it again and again, just as you leave and come back. People don’t like to change. If you need guidance, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“That also means you’re going to get my opinion,” Washington continued. “Sleeping with your married boss is a terrible idea.”

“Yeah…” Burr rubbed at his neck as he tried not to grin at the memory. “Not regretting it.”

Washington shook his head. “I’ve raised some stubborn boys yet I think you take the cake.” His face stiffened and he sat up straighter as he listened to the rumble of the garage opening. “Well, Alexander is home.”

Burr swallowed. “I didn’t know what I was going to say to you, sir, what—”

“Better decide quickly.” Washington stood and crossed his office to open the door.

Hamilton stood in the hallway. “Why do we have guests?” he asked.

Washington stepped aside as Burr dragged himself out of his chair.

“Hey, Alex,” he mumbled.

“Hey.” Hamilton looked at his dad.

Washington could only shrug.

“Listen, Alexander.” Burr closed the gap between them. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or ever want to be friends again—I don’t deserve that. But I am sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused you and I regret pushing you guys away. Seeing James the other day made me realize everything I’d lost and I selfishly wanted it all back. I’m sorry I came here and disrupted your evening.” He tried to squeeze through the door.

Hamilton stopped him. “I forgave you a long time ago,” he said in a soft voice. “I toyed with your heart as often as you left. We were equal jerks to each other.”

“I told you I didn’t understand—”

“Hush.” Hamilton shot him a look. “Your ex-boyfriend tried to commit suicide after he made you live with him and his parents for six months while he knew you hated every minute of it. Aaron, you had to walk away, I get it. I wish you hadn’t, I wish I lot of things hadn’t happened but they did and we move on. I’ve forgiven you.”

“Alex, I—”

“Do you accept?”

Burr nodded. “I forgive you, too. I also didn’t hate every minute of living here.”

“Good.” Hamilton patted Burr’s shoulder. “I would like to meet Theodosia.”

“Sure.”

Washington followed the boys to the front room, proud and confused over Hamilton’s speech.

Theodosia watched Burr as he sat next to her. “Alex, this is Theodosia.”

Hamilton held out his hand. “Hi.”

Theodosia shook it. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” She glanced at Burr, somewhat confused that this scraggly, slender redhead was his ex-boyfriend. The picture in her head had been vastly different and much taller.

Hamilton gave a quick smile and retreated to sit on Washington’s knee across the room.

“Theodosia was showing me some of the pictures she’s taken,” Mrs. Washington said. “She’s got an eye for unique shots.”

“You should meet James,” Hamilton told her. “You could take pictures of his stuffed animals.”

Theodosia smiled. “That sounds like fun.”

While the two women spoke about knitting, Washington rubbed a hand against Hamilton’s back and searched for the piece he was missing. Hamilton was putting on a brave face but he needed comforting. Did he not forgive Burr? Did he regret forgiving him?

When her questions had been answered, Theodosia turned to Burr. “We should get going.”

Burr nodded and stood.

Hamilton got up as well and met Burr’s eyes. They stepped aside as the others moved toward the door. “I meant what I said,” Hamilton began, “but understand I don’t mean it as an invitation to be friends again. It’s harder to forget. I’m with John and I’m not going to jeopardize that.”

Burr nodded as he slipped on his coat. “I get it. That would have been a lot to ask of you. You don’t mind if I ask your dad for help now and then, do you?”

“No.” Hamilton held out his hand. “Take care of yourself, Aaron.”

Burr grasped it. “You, too.”  He thanked the Washington’s for their time and followed Theodosia outside.

Washington closed the front door and braced himself for emotions.

Hamilton pursed his lips in thought. “Dad?”

“Yes?” Washington hovered at his side.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“What?” He stared at his son.

Hamilton chuckled. “You actually managed to teach me something. Like actual wisdom is in my brain.”

“Okay…”

“Thank you.” Hamilton headed upstairs.

Washington turned to his wife. “I don’t know what I did.”

She patted his arm. “Probably better that way. Theodosia seems nice.”

“She’s married,” pointed out Washington.

“And Aaron is a nitwit. Are we done stating the obvious, dear?”

Washington smiled. “I don’t know what happened tonight but I think we did well.”

“Indeed.” She squeezed his hand. “Your phone rang earlier. I didn’t check to see who it was.”

Washington headed into the kitchen to retrieve it from the outlet. One missed call and voicemail from Jefferson from a half hour ago. His heart beat faster. It couldn’t be that bad if he hadn’t kept calling, right?

He listened to the message: “We’re at the hospital. Jemmy’s in a bad way.” A long pause followed before Jefferson added in a dead voice, “He might be paralyzed.”


	67. Chapter 67

_Twelve hours earlier_

Law school took up the morning and Jefferson’s brain was fried by the time he got to work. He rubbed at his temples as he sat down and Angelica dropped a stack of papers on his desk. “Great. Thanks.”

“Sorry.” Angelica tried to find an encouraging smile. “Greene wants to see you, too.”

Jefferson sighed. He sent his fiancé a text first to see how his morning at work had gone before he went downstairs.

Greene waved him over. “I have something new for you to learn.” His hand pressed against Jefferson’s back as he guided him toward his office.

Jefferson shrugged him off but that didn’t stop Greene from standing too close while he went through some forms. So focused on Greene invading his bubble and overly conscious of his own movements, he retained none of what his manager told him.

“Got it?” Green asked as he reached over Jefferson’s arms to grab a pen.

“Yup.” His chair scraped against the floor as he shoved it back. He almost ran back to his office and dropped the papers on Angelica’s desk. “Teach me.”

Angelica stared at the forms. “Hon, this is your job.”

“Yeah, well, Greene was standing in my bubble and I couldn’t listen.”

“Why haven’t you told him you’re engaged?” Angelica questioned.

“I don’t want to talk to him at all.” Jefferson pointed at the papers. “Help me.”

“No, you whiny ass.” Angelica shoved the papers at him. “Google it.”

Jefferson returned to his desk and checked his phone. Madison hadn’t replied and the message didn’t show delivered. He must have turned his phone off so he could take a nap, Jefferson decided.

Work consumed him the rest of the day and he didn’t think to check his phone again until a quarter to five when he prepared to leave. The message still showed no delivery. Jefferson called Madison’s cell and, as he expected, it went straight to voicemail.

A knot twisted in his stomach and he called Mrs. Madison. She didn’t answer either but her cell was at least on. He didn’t know what to say, though, and hung up to call Mr. Madison. While the call rang, he tried to reason that if something were wrong, one of the Madison’s would have called him right away. Jemmy was napping and Eleanor had her hands full with the babies was all.

“Yes, Thomas?” Mr. Madison answered.

“How is Jemmy today?” Jefferson said. “His phone has been off all day.”

“Fine as far as I know. Have you called Eleanor?”

“No answer.” His heart pounded in his chest. He was just working himself up with no cause he tried to reason. Jemmy was fine. “I’m going over now.”

“I’ll be home in a half hour or so myself,” Mr. Madison said.

Jefferson said goodbye and grabbed his things. Angelica had already left and he raced out to his truck.

 _Nothing is wrong_ , he told himself again and again as he cussed at every stop light and pounded his hands against the steering wheel.

Finally, he pulled into Montpelier and ran into the house. Children shouting from the kitchen and Mrs. Madison scolding them to wait met his ears. He took the stairs two at a time and threw open the door to Madison’s room.

His fiancé lay in bed, eyes staring at the ceiling.

“Jem.” He was across the room before he realized it and shook Madison’s fragile body. “Jemmy.”

Madison grunted and his eyes struggled to focus on Jefferson’s face. “I’m cold,” he whispered.

Jefferson touched Madison’s forehead with a sweaty hand as his heart continued to jackhammer. He didn’t feel feverish. “Does anything hurt?” he asked in a breathless voice. “What can I do?”

“I can’t feel my legs.” Madison blinked rapidly. His tone was weak, emotionless.

“What?” Jefferson tossed the blankets back as his whole body trembled. “Jemmy, what’s going on? Why didn’t you call me?” Panic made him loud and Madison whimpered.

“I couldn’t move my arms earlier to get my phone,” he explained. “I’m cold.”

Jefferson wrapped him back up and willed the tears not to fall as his mind refused to think. _Hospital_ , he told himself. _That’s all you need to focus on._ He lifted his fiancé off the bed and kept him snug in his favorite fluffy blanket.

He hurried downstairs and to the racket of hungry children.

Bess and Reuben scampered across the kitchen floor making animal sounds while Sarah and William argued over the last juice box. Mrs. Madison tried to hush everyone while she made dinner.

“Silence!” Mr. Madison bellowed as he entered the room just before Jefferson did from the opposite end.

The children shut up.

“Where’s Jemmy?” Mr. Madison asked.

At that moment, Jefferson entered the kitchen, Madison in his arms. “He can’t feel his legs, we’re going to the hospital,” he said in a rush as tiny Madison children got out of his way.

Mr. Madison tossed his briefcase on the table and followed them.

Shutting off the stovetop, Mrs. Madison hurried after them. “Thomas, what’s going on?”

“Jemmy can’t feel his legs,” Jefferson shouted. “When was the last time you checked on him?”

Mrs. Madison pressed a hand to her trembling lips as he and Mr. Madison stared at her for a moment. She didn’t have a good answer. The younger children had kept her busy all day and lost to the passing hours. She got in the Corvette and texted Nelly and Ambrose about the crisis.

Mr. Madison drove while Jefferson, in the passenger seat, clutched Madison to him and fought back his racing thoughts and anger.

As they hit another stop light, Mr. Madison rubbed the bald spot that now covered a good portion of his head and he was certain had spread since the weekend. He cursed under his breath and went through the red light.

Once at the hospital, everything happened in a rush and Jefferson soon found himself empty-armed and stuck in a waiting room listening to the Madison’s argue with each other. He had never heard them fight before but he didn’t blame Mr. Madison for his anger. He was irritated, too, at Mrs. Madison and could find no empathy for her. But as he seethed with aggravation at himself for not checking up on Madison sooner or more often, he understood a little of how Mrs. Madison’s day could have rushed by without a chance to check on her son. It hurt more than he could bear to think of his Jemmy in bed unable to move and no one knowing. Oh, God, he couldn’t handle it. 

Jefferson’s broken sob ended the Madison’s argument.

“Thomas?” Mr. Madison patted his back. “We’ll get through this.”

“He was alone!” Jefferson cried. “He couldn’t even turn on his phone.” The tears streamed down his face and his nose clogged and he couldn’t breathe.

Silent tears rolled down Mrs. Madison’s cheeks and she fell against her husband apologizing and begging his forgiveness.

The nurse had to call their names several times before the broken family heard and comprehended. “Come with me.”

It was an all too frequent sight: Madison in a hospital bed and looking paler and smaller under the white sheets.

Jefferson rubbed at his tears and kissed his fiancé’s forehead. “I’m here, Jemmy.”

Madison gave a faint nod and closed his eyes.

The doctor arrived and gave the bleak prognosis of what he knew so far. “Possibly another stroke. He has no feeling below the waist and his upper torso is weak. From what James has been able to tell me, he wasn’t able to move at all earlier in the day, although he is unsure of how long ago that was. We’ll do a CAT scan and see what his body can tell us. He may be paralyzed.”

Jefferson shut his eyes. _Why? Why?_ It was all he could think.

When Madison was wheeled out for his scan and his parents dealt with paperwork and calls home, Jefferson remained alone in the hospital room. He fumbled with his phone. Why hadn’t he checked in earlier? More frequently? He’d known Madison had been doing poorly lately. Why hadn’t he done more?

He called Washington and anger burned through him as the call went to voicemail. Done with everything, his voice came out calm and dead as he left his message.


	68. Chapter 68

“Martha, Alexander!” Washington shouted.

Mrs. Washington hurried in from down the hall while Hamilton’s bare feet pounded down the stairs and he rushed in the kitchen half undressed as he’d been about to shower.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Washington told his bewildered family. “Jemmy isn’t well.”

Hamilton headed for the garage door but his dad was quick to grab his shoulder. “Put some clothes on first.”

Two minutes later, he returned, hoodie hanging off his shoulders as he zipped up his jeans and stomped his feet into shoes. 

Mrs. Washington handed him his coat and they got in the Cadillac. They didn’t dare ask what was wrong with Madison. It wouldn’t be anything minor at any rate.

As he drove, Washington handed his phone to his wife. “Text Thomas and tell him we’re on our way. If he doesn’t respond, text Jim.”

She did as asked and Jefferson soon replied with a room number but nothing else.

Hamilton didn’t want to think about how many times he’d been at the hospital the past few years. Himself, Madison or his dad, it seemed like a rotating wheel of misery of which one would need to be healed. As all the memories smashed into his brain, he hesitated to get out of the car. 

Washington held out his hand. “Come on, Alex.”

Hamilton gripped the strong, warm hand and took a deep breath.

The sharp, antiseptic odor of the hospital met the family’s nostrils as they stepped inside and found their way to Madison’s hospital room. 

The bed was empty and Jefferson remained alone sitting in the chair beside the door.

“Where is he?” Washington asked and rested a hand on Jefferson’s shoulders.

Jefferson shrugged him off and stood. “Getting a CAT scan,” he replied in a strained voice. He moved away from them.

“What happened?” Hamilton asked in a teary squeak.

Jefferson looked away as he answered. “Don’t know. Maybe a stroke.” He pushed between the Washington’s and left the room.

Hamilton hurried after him, stepped on the untied laces of his boots, and tripped himself.

The heavy thud stopped Jefferson’s speedy retreat and he picked Hamilton off the floor. “You okay?”

Hamilton rubbed his red hand together as his knees smarted. “Yeah.”

Jefferson sat in a nearby chair with a rattling sigh. “He was alone, Alex.” He bent over and pulled his hands through his hair. “No one checked on him. He couldn’t move.”

Hamilton sat next to him, eyes watering. “I’m sorry.”

“All the technology everyone is attached to and it didn’t help him.”

“Is that why you’re mad at Dad?”

Jefferson nodded. “Nothing personal just pissed that no one could be there for Jemmy today.” He tugged at his hair. “He must have been terrified.” He turned away as tears pooled in his eyes.

Hamilton stroked his back.

“His voice is so weak he couldn’t have yelled either,” Jefferson said through a sob. “What if it had been an asthma attack?”

“Shh.” Hamilton half hugged him. “He’s safe now.”

Jefferson pulled Hamilton out of his chair, making Hamilton feel like a ragdoll to be maneuvered so easily, and squeezed him tight. He needed to hold something, ground himself to the world and remind himself he wasn’t alone. 

Hamilton ignored the pain of Jefferson crushing his chest and sucked in a deep breath when his friend’s arms loosed around him. 

When they returned to the hospital room, a nurse was wheeling Madison in. The boys got out of the way until Madison was settled back in his bed and the nurse left.

“Hey, Jemmy.” Jefferson kissed his cheek.

Madison tugged at his shirt.

“What?”

“Don’t leave,” he whispered.

“I won’t.” He took Madison’s slender hands in his. “Never ever.”

A tired smile touched his face.

The doctor arrived and shooed out the Washington’s. “James had a stroke,” he told the Madison’s and Jefferson. “He’ll need to begin physical therapy again as soon as possible. James said he felt some tingling in his feet and we’re optimistic that he’ll regain full use of his legs. Judging by the amount of weakness in his body, we believe he had multiple strokes. Any questions?”

They had none and the doctor let their friends return and fuss over Madison.

“We’ll get you better,” Jefferson assured his fiancé.

Madison nodded and looked toward his mom. “Please, don’t blame yourself.”

Tears filled Mrs. Madison’s eyes. “I feel so bad, Jemmy.” She stroked his cheek.

“Don’t. I’ll be okay.” He squeezed his mom’s hand.

***

Madison returned home a couple days later. Jefferson, Mrs. Madison, and Mrs. Washington were trained on how to do his physical therapy and the three of them took turns to make sure Madison had round the clock care. On top of the exercises at home, Madison had physical therapy at the hospital every day. He would remain in a wheelchair for the coming months but gained enough strength and coordination to sit up for longer periods each day.

“You have class,” Madison reminded Jefferson as he fussed over him on a Monday morning. “Go. You’re annoying me.”

Jefferson finished tucking his fiancé in bed. “I don’t want you getting cold after your bath.”

“I’m fine. Go.”

“Okay, okay.” Jefferson kissed him and left the room.

Mrs. Washington soon arrived and Madison begged her to untuck him from his cocoon.

“I know Thomas means well,” Madison said, “but I think he’s trying to smother me.”

Mrs. Washington chuckled as she loosened him from several blankets. “You mean a lot to him.”

“I know.” Madison sighed with relief to have his arms free. “I couldn’t live without him either. I already miss him.”

A loving smile warmed Mrs. Washington’s face. “Do you need anything, dear?”

“Just the remote.”

Mrs. Washington handed it over and made sure his phone was on and in easy reach. “I’ll bring your snack up soon.” She kissed his head.

During the morning, she helped Mrs. Madison with the babies and they took turns checking on Madison, helping him through his exercises, and making sure he was safe and comfortable. Mrs. Washington returned home for a few hours in the afternoon and went back to Montpelier while Mrs. Madison picked up her older children. In the evenings, Mr. Madison or Jefferson was around to take over and they rotated who stayed in his room at night.

As Madison grew stronger and could be in his wheelchair longer, he followed his mom around and didn’t require as much constant care.

It was a relief to all of them, though, when Jefferson was there to take over the intimate care of bathing him and helping him to use the bathroom.

“My mom has seen too much of me,” Madison complained as Jefferson set him in the tub.

“Yeah, but she gave birth to you,” Jefferson said. “I think she’s seen it all, Jemmy.”

“Ugh, everyone has seen it all.” He took the washcloth from Jefferson.

“We just want to take care of you. You don’t need to be ashamed.” He turned on the removable showerhead and soaked Madison’s hair. “Martha has been taking care of you since you were a baby, too. You have a lot of people who will do anything for you.”

“I do prefer Mom or Mrs. Washington over Dad. He’s not gentle.”

Jefferson chuckled. “I believe it.” He squirted shampoo in his palm and lathered up Madison’s hair.

“What if I’m always in a wheelchair?” Madison asked. He searched his fiancé’s face.

“Then we make sure we buy a one-story house,” Jefferson said.

“T…”

“What, Jem?” Jefferson dunked his sudsy hands in the water. “In sickness and in health, those will be are vows, right? I have no qualms about your health. If you’re in a wheelchair, you’re in a wheelchair. It’s not an issue. Don’t think I would ever abandon you because you’re sick.”

Madison stared at the washcloth in his hand. “I wish I was able to do more for you. That’s what I worry about, T. If I’m unwell, you’re stuck working, taking care of me, and doing all the housework. I hate putting all that on you. I don’t want to be helpless.”

Jefferson began rinsing Madison’s hair. “If you’re in a wheelchair, you’ll learn how to do chores that way. If you’re bed-bound, we hire a housekeeper and I work from home. Jem, it’ll always be okay.”

“But I still hate that I can never do as much for you as you do for me.” He twisted the washcloth. “You’re so much more independent and stronger. What do I even bring—”

“Stop.” Jefferson turned off the water and moved to look at Madison’s face. “You bring me so much joy and love. I know I never have to go through life alone. You give me security and hope. It doesn’t matter if you’re not paying the bills or that you can’t reach the top shelf or even carry a quarter of my weight. If you have concerns that our relationship isn’t equal, those things aren’t what makes a relationship work. Those other things, the stability and trust, are equal and matter so much more.” He kissed Madison’s forehead. “And the acceptance and respect.”

Madison pulled himself to the side of the tub and kissed Jefferson’s lips. “Thank you. I get stuck on how you’re the one working and caring for me and think that is all a relationship is. I love you more than anything.”

“Likewise.” He smiled at his fiancé. “Let me finish washing your hair.”

“What can I do for you tonight?” Madison asked.

“A backrub would be nice.”

“Done.”


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tench

“Alexander, you have a package from Tench,” Washington called out as he closed the front door after retrieving the mail.

Hamilton jumped down the last few stairs and almost landed on his dad. “Yay!”

Washington bopped him with the box. “Be careful.”

He grinned and took the box and headed for the kitchen to open it. As he walked away, he heard Washington cuss. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Washington said.

Hamilton dropped the box on the kitchen table and scampered to block the hallway to his dad’s office. “What is it?” he repeated.

“Alex…”

“Dad…”

Washington sighed and held up one of the letters in his hand.

Hamilton didn’t recognize the spidery, shaky handwriting but revelation hit when he saw the return address from _Mary Ball Washington_. “Your mom?”

Washington’s lips pressed in a thin line. “Yes.”

“I’ll read it first,” Hamilton said and reached for the letter.

Washington held it out of his reach. “You don’t need to.”

“Yes, I do.” He stood on his tiptoes to try to grab it.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Washington teased and gave him the letter. “Fine.” He headed to his office.

Hamilton returned to the kitchen and tore open the envelope. His head hurt just trying to decipher that thin, trembling handwriting. The letter began brutally and he had to read the first sentence three times to be sure he read the cursive correctly.

_I read in the paper that your pretentious French fuck of a son is getting married. Why was I not invited?_

“Read what you wrote and you’ll have your answer,” Hamilton muttered. He took a deep breath and continued to read, cringing at every other sentence.

_Are you still fostering those ignorant bastards? Have you not gotten every disease from them as it is? It’s a good thing you have Lawrence’s money to spend on them while your poor mother rots away in poverty. That cow wife of yours—_

“Oh, you crossed a line, you bitch,” Hamilton snapped but he couldn’t stop reading.

_—gave you a pretty penny, too, didn’t she? Couldn’t give you your own children, though, could she? Grandchildren, George, that’s all I’ve ever asked of you._

“You ignorant witch…” With a strained face, Hamilton read on.

_How much money do you waste a year on those addled children? Not to mention the time! No wonder you’ve amounted to nothing in your career. And all those rich, queer children you fill your house with to lavish with your “wisdom” and money. What have you been trying to hide all your life?_

“Okay, that’s enough.” Hamilton crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it on the floor.

The dogs ran over to investigate and he was quick to retrieve the paper.

“It’s probably laced with poison.” He pet Noodle on the head and tossed the paper on the counter. He cut the tape on the box from Tilghman and headed to Washington’s office to finish opening it. Hopefully, there would be something cheerful inside.

Washington sat in his armchair, drink in hand. “Well?”

Hamilton bit his tongue about mentioning that it was two in the afternoon. “Your mom is vile.”

He took a drink.

“There was nothing of importance.” Hamilton sat down and opened the box. “Aww, look what Tench sent me?” He pulled out a dark blue stuffed dragon with large eyes. A note hanging from its neck read, _I couldn’t find a red one cute enough but the color of this one reminded me of you._

Washington managed a smile and admired the toy.

Along with the dragon were two letters and Hamilton handed Washington the one marked _Dad_.

Hamilton hadn’t gotten far in his letter before Mrs. Washington came into the office with a smoothed-out wrinkled paper in hand.

“George?”

Washington didn’t look up, jaw bulging.

“I didn’t let Dad read it,” Hamilton said. “It’s revolting.”

“Indeed,” she agreed. “Did you read the part where she plans to show up to Lafayette’s wedding?”

Hamilton shook his head.

“Well—”

Washington stood up and drained his glass. “Of course that fucking woman will be there,” he snapped.

“George!” Mrs. Washington scolded.

“She’s determined to ruin every Goddamn thing.” He threw his glass against the wall where it shattered with a painful clamor. “Some good news would be fucking nice for once.” He stormed out of the room.

“George!” Mrs. Washington hurried after him.

Heart pounding, Hamilton picked up Tilghman’s letter to Washington and at once picked out the paragraph that upset him.

_I’ve been holding off on telling you this for as long as possible but I don’t know what will happen in the future. I have cancer. That’s why I was in New York a few months ago, for treatment, not work. My doctor remains hopeful but the next stage of treatment will be brutal and I’m likely to be sick for most of it. Because of that, I would like, with your permission, to take Alexander to Las Vegas for a few days to take my mind off the coming treatment._

“Shit, Tench,” Hamilton whispered. Shaking, he finished reading his own letter but there was no mention of cancer, just ideas of what they could do in Las Vegas. But a postscript read: _I have some bad news that I couldn’t write twice. Please, talk to Dad._ “Damnit.” He massaged his forehead and closed his eyes. Why was there never any good news?

He cleaned up the broken glass in the office and went upstairs to his room where he lay on his bed and held the stuffed dragon close. Tears rolled down his cheeks as much for his dad as for Tilghman.

He dozed off and woke to the sight of Washington’s broad frame leaning in the doorway. Hamilton sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Did Tench tell you this used to be his room?” Washington asked.

Hamilton nodded.

“He was more into decorations than you and put up a bunch of posters.” He gazed at the walls and had an easier time remembering the sadness of taking them down then of what any of the posters was. “We ended up having to get rid of the bedding he used since he liked to draw in bed at night and got ink and marker—paint, to, I think—all over the blankets.” He shook his head with a sigh.

“He’ll get better, Dad,” Hamilton said softly. “Tench is a fighter.”

“I know.” He came into the room and sat on the bed. “I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Hamilton rested his head against his dad’s shoulder.

“I’ve lost a lot of family and friends but never one of my boys.” His chilly hand stroked Hamilton’s cheek. “I don’t know what to do with myself at the prospect.”

“He’ll get better,” Hamilton repeated. “Are you going to let me go to Las Vegas?”

“If you want to,” Washington said.

“Yeah.”

Washington nodded. “Talk to Tench and figure out when. I’ll get your flights and a hotel.”

“Thank you.” A devilish grin crept up his face. “Are you going to let us stay on the Strip?”

“No.” Washington tapped Hamilton’s nose. “You can go down there but I’d be happier if you stayed somewhere a little quieter. I’m sure Tench knows of some options.”

“Have you ever been to Vegas?”

“About twenty years ago,” Washington said. “Mom and I went for a vacation. It’s changed a lot since then, not as family friendly as it was in the ‘90’s. I’m sure Tench knows what places to avoid. I expect you boys to be responsible and careful.”

“Tench doesn’t strike me as the type to party hard,” Hamilton assured him. “We won’t go wild.”

“Good.” Washington kissed his son’s forehead and stood. He paused before he left the room. “Have you determined if you’re continuing law school?”

Hamilton stared at his fingers. “I haven’t decided.”

“Try to decide soon.”

“Yes, sir.”


	70. Chapter 70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Las Vegas

The second week of December was decided on for the Las Vegas trip, a few days after Hamilton finished the semester of law school. To cut down on travel time and expense, the boys flew from their separate states and would meet at McCarran airport within an hour of each other the next morning taking a red-eye flight.

The drive to the airport was quiet. Washington parked outside in the loading/unloading area and got Hamilton’s bag from the backseat. “Let me know when you’re through security and at your gate.”

Hamilton nodded. He slipped his smaller carry-on bag over his head and reached for the larger bag. 

“Text me when you get to Vegas and find Tench,” Washington continued. “Call—”

“Dad,” Hamilton interrupted. “I’ll be okay and I’ll let you know I’m safe every step of the way.”

“Thank you.” Washington kissed his forehead and lingered not wanting to let go. “At least you’ll get a chance to warm up. It’ll be in the 50’s or 60’s there.” He fixed the collar on Hamilton’s jacket. ”Have fun and stay safe.” 

“I will.” Hamilton grinned. “Strip club.”

“Alexander,” Washington groaned.

“I’m trying to lighten the mood.” 

“Go on then.”

Hamilton hoisted up his bag and headed for the entrance. A few steps away, he stopped and turned around. “I love you.”

A tender smile softened Washington’s face. “I love you, too. See you in a few days.”

Hamilton waved and disappeared into the noisy, busy airport.

Taking a deep breath, he got in line to go through security since his bag was small enough to take on the plane with him. Then it was across the airport to his gate where he found a seat and texted his dad. With almost an hour still to kill, he put in earbuds, found some music, and opened a book. The dragon Tench sent him sat on his lap.

Soon he was on the plane and resumed reading until the plane reached cruising altitude. As the motion smoothed out, he put away his book, turned down the volume of his music and cuddled the dragon as he closed his eyes.

The announcement of the descent woke Hamilton from sleep. Groggily, he tried to orientate himself and a brief spike of adrenaline raced through him when he realized the dragon was missing. Before he could begin a frantic search, the older lady next to him tapped his arm.

“It fell on the floor while you were asleep.” She gave him the stuffed animal. “I didn’t want it to roll away or get dirty.”

Hamilton shoulder’s relaxed. “Thank you.” He folded the toy in his arms against his chest.

The plane landed and Hamilton found his way to his next gate for the short hour-long flight to Las Vegas. He half dozed in the waiting area and resumed his slumber on the plane. 

The jolt of the wheels hitting the tarmac woke him. Hamilton rubbed his eyes and squeezed the dragon that had remained in his lap that time. He turned on his phone and found a text from Tilghman to let him know he was waiting at Hamilton’s gate. 

A little revived at the prospect of seeing Tilghman, Hamilton hurried off the plane and found the familiar freckled face in the crowd.

“Alex!” Tilghman grasped him in a tight embrace. “How was your flight?”

“Good,” Hamilton said.

“Aww, you have your dragon.” Tilghman smiled.

Hamilton returned it and tucked the toy safely in his bag. He followed Tilghman through the crowds and out of the airport to a shuttle bus to take them to the car rental. 

While they waited for the bus, Tilghman indicated to the people around them waiting or loading up cars. “You can easily tell who’s a Las Vegan and a tourist,” he said with a chuckle. “If you’re wearing a heavy coat in fifty-degree weather, you’ve lived here too long.”

Hamilton grinned.

Less than an hour later with the sun burning through the hazy sky, Tilghman drove past the Strip and headed for his friend’s house in Summerlin where they would stay.

Hamilton gazed out the windows and took in the mountains surrounding the valley and the wispy clouds high in the sky. Closer at hand, his eyes took in the many shades of sandstone from pink to yellow in the rock landscape that dominated the sides of the interstate. As they exited I-15 and headed into the suburbs, there was more rock and walls of red stone. Decorative desert animals and wire cacti made it less bland. 

“It’s so much easier to drive here than back east,” Tilghman commented as he cruised down a six-lane avenue with little traffic. “The city is actually built to accommodate traffic. You might get traffic in the suburbs but not a ton of congestion. Downtown is a different story but unless you work there it’s pretty easy to get around without much hassle.” They drove past a desert park with the first green Hamilton saw with some grass and scraggly fern trees. 

As they drove deeper in the neighborhood, Hamilton was amazed that anyone could remember where their house was as they all looked the same to him. Same stucco, same red roofs, same walls at the back and mere feet between each house. Front yards were mostly rock with some palm trees and spiky plants.

Without ever needing a GPS, though, Tilghman pulled into the driveway of a two-story beige stucco house with a red tile roof that looked the same as the house on the right. The one on the left was one-story.

“All the houses look the same,” Hamilton said. “Are you sure this is the right one?”

“Yes.” Tilghman turned off the car. “There are still addresses, goose.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes and got out of the car. He stretched and relished the non-biting air in December and no snow on the ground. “I could live here,” he decided.

“Dad wouldn’t let you,” Tilghman replied as he got out his suitcase. “And he doesn’t like the heat so he wouldn’t move.”

“True.” He grabbed his bags and followed Tilghman to the front door.

Tilghman rang the doorbell and his friend soon answered. 

“You made it!”

“Yup!” Tilghman introduced his friend David Humphreys to Hamilton. “Alexander and I were in foster care together and he’s Washington’s adopted son.”

Humphreys stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Hamilton shook it and wondered how Tilghman could be so blasé about his foster care past. Hamilton hated ever mentioning it.

The living room of the Humphreys’ house had high ceilings and white textured walls. Two steps led up to the dining room and the kitchen and family room beyond. To the left were the stairs and Humphreys led them up. One bedroom and a large loft were on the left and around the banister on the right were three more bedrooms. A small bathroom was at the top of the stairs. 

“You get this room,” Humphreys said and opened the first door on the right. Inside was a queen-size bed and not a lot of space for much else other than a nightstand on either side. The window opposite the door looked out over the small backyard with a hot tub. “If you don’t want to share, the couch in the loft has a pull-out bed.”

“This’ll be fine,” Tilghman said with a look at Hamilton who nodded.

“Cool.” Humphreys smiled at Tilghman. “I’m glad you could come for a visit.”

“Same,” Tilghman said and punched his friend’s arm.

“I know you guys have stuff planned so come and go as you please. Mom just wants to know if you’ll be home for dinner so she can plan accordingly.”

“Sounds good.” Tilghman looked at Hamilton. “I think we’re going to do a little window shopping today but probably take it easy since we’re a bit jet lagged. Are you good to have dinner here tonight, Alex?”

“Yeah,” Hamilton said as he wandered over to look out the window. From upstairs, he could easily see into half a dozen neighbor’s yards, although palm trees partially obscured a few and offered a little privacy. 

“We could use the hot tub tonight if you want,” Humphreys said. “I’m sure Alex won’t think the evening too cold and you never thought this was cold either, Tench.”

“This is spring weather,” Tilghman said with a chuckle.

“I’ll let you get settled.” He returned the punch to Tilghman’s arm and headed downstairs.

“Do you want to rest or head out?” Tilghman asked.

“If I sit,” Hamilton said, “I don’t think I’ll get up until tomorrow. I’m good to go.”

They each freshened up in the bathroom and headed out to some local shopping centers Tilghman liked and spent the rest of the morning browsing around and chatting. After lunch, Tilghman drove to a specialty ice cream shop and they had shaved ice cream for dessert. Yawning more than talking, they returned to the Humphreys’ house by mid-afternoon. 

“Are you going to take a nap?” Tilghman asked.

Hamilton nodded as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He was asleep a few minutes after he crashed on the bed.

Tilghman used the time to catch up with his friend and play video games until Humphreys’ parents and younger sister returned home. The group chatted while Mrs. Humphreys put fries in the oven and made a salad while Mr. Humphreys grilled burgers. 

Humphreys and Tilghman had met at trade school and ended up getting jobs at the same dealership after graduating. Tilghman had spent many evenings at the house studying and playing video games. Denied a supportive, loving family for most of his life, he enjoyed the family atmosphere of parents and siblings and they’d welcomed him, not caring that he was an adult when they’d all met and easily treated him as a son.

“Better get your friend up, Tench,” Mr. Humphreys said as he came inside with a plate of hamburgers. “These won’t last.”

Tilghman headed upstairs and into the guest room. He shook Hamilton awake. “Time for dinner, Alex.”

Hamilton stretched out and rolled on his back. “‘Kay.” He yawned. He sat up with his hair sticking out everywhere as the hair tie half fell out. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Tilghman petted him on the head and returned to the kitchen.

Once he fixed his hair, Hamilton went downstairs and Tilghman introduced him to the family.

“Aww, he’s cute,” said Sarina, Humphreys’ little sister who, at sixteen, stood a few inches taller then Hamilton did.

Hamilton gave Tilghman a defeated look.

“Come on, let’s eat,” Mr. Humphreys said while Tilghman chuckled.

Everyone took a seat and food was passed around.

“How are the dogs?” Humphreys asked.

Tilghman’s eyes lit up. “They’re awesome.” He launched into multiple stories about Quincy and Tig. Finished, he prompted Hamilton to tell the Humphreys’ about Mrs. Washington’s pack and he charmed them with tales of Potato and Noodle.

 

After dinner, Humphreys nudged Tilghman. “Hot tub?

“For sure,” Tilghman said. “Alex?”

Hamilton glanced down at his legs and a flutter of panic rose in his chest. He didn’t want them to see the scars on his legs. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“I can find you something,” Humphreys said.

“I, um—” But his stammer went unheard as Humphreys asked Tilghman if he wanted anything to drink.

“Yes, but I can’t,” Tilghman said. “Alcohol doesn’t go well with my medication.”

“Sorry, bro.” Humphreys embraced him for a long moment. 

After that, Hamilton didn’t have the heart to protest further and followed the boys upstairs. He accepted the shorts Humphreys found for him. He didn’t doubt they’d fit but grimaced at how short they were.

Tilghman closed the door to the guest room and dug through his suitcase. 

Hamilton stared at the shorts and tried to figure out how to bring up his insecurity. He didn’t get a chance before Tilghman said, “So, not to scare you but I want to show you something.”

Hamilton set down the shorts. “What?”

Tilghman pulled off his shirt and pointed to a bump about an inch under his right collarbone. “It’s an implanted port. I figured you should know it’s there. It beats being poked a million times and having my arms look like I’m a junkie.”

Hamilton swallowed at a loss of what to say as the reality that Tilghman had cancer hit him. He wanted to apologize but what was he sorry for? It came out anyway. “I’m sorry, Tench.”

Tilghman rubbed his index finger over the port under his skin. “Trying to stay positive.” He sat on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes and socks.

“I have to show you something now,” Hamilton murmured. “It’s selfish and with everything you’re going through it makes my struggle seem baseless.” 

Tilghman set aside his shoes and folded up his socks. “I know you have depression and anxiety, Alex. Those are just as real as cancer. Don’t feel bad. You’re fighting as much as I am, just a different demon.”

“But I caused this.” He pushed up his skinny jeans as far as he could to show a section of his scarred leg.

“You didn’t cause it.” Tilghman poked him in the stomach. “Don’t be ashamed. But I’ll get you a towel and you can wear that until you get in the water. It’ll be dark, Humphreys won’t see.”

“Thank you.” Hamilton rolled his jeans back down. He changed while Tilghman asked Humphreys for towels. He waited on the edge of the bed, less scarred right leg pressed against his heavily marred left one.

“There you be,” Tilghman tossed him a large towel. “I’m going to change. Don’t look.”

Hamilton wrapped the towel around his waist. It fell a few inches above his ankles but covered the majority of his legs.

They headed downstairs and met Humphreys at the back door. He had on flip-flops and a towel wrapped around his shoulders. “Your feet are going to get cold.”

“It’s, like, ten steps,” Tilghman said. He went outside first with no complaints. 

Hamilton followed him and got in the bubbly water as soon as he dropped the towel. If Humphreys wanted to question his modesty, he could say it was because the shorts were too short and made him look stupid, which was true.

The boys soaked in the hot water in silence for several minutes. Tilghman asked after a few former co-workers, and then drew Hamilton into the conversation to ask how his college experience had gone and compared it to the shenanigans of trade school.

As college talk petered out, Humphreys asked Hamilton, “Do you have anyone special in your life?”

“A boyfriend,” Hamilton said and knew his already red face from the hot water turned a darker shade. “John Laurens.”

“Lucky you,” Humphreys said.

“Still single I take it?” Tilghman teased.

“Apparently.” He rolled his eyes. “Girls can be difficult.”

“Girls like to hint,” Hamilton said. “It’s tricky.”

“You’ve played both fields then?” Humphreys asked.

“Yeah.” Hamilton studied his wrinkled fingers. “I lean more toward guys.”

Humphreys nodded. “What about you, Tench?”

Tilghman shrugged. “Neither, I suppose. Never been into that.”

“One of my friends is asexual,” Hamilton said. “He does have a boyfriend—fiancé—but I don’t think there’s much sex and stuff. He’s romantic, though.”

“Eh, too complicated,” said Tilghman with a grin. “Dogs are simpler and have plenty of love to give.”

“No shit,” Humphreys agreed. “Good luck on your voyage to doom, Alex.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”


	71. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Las Vegas (part 2)

After a proper night of sleep, Hamilton and Tilghman headed down to the Strip mid-morning and wandered around taking in the sights and people. Since drinking was out of the question, neither had an interest in gambling, and Tilghman vetoed any kind of club, it was more enjoyable to go during the day.

“Dad said it was a lot different here in the ‘90’s,” Hamilton said as they wandered through Caesar’s Palace. All the stores were well out of their budget but the architecture was interesting to look at and admire the ceiling painted like the sky.

“Yeah, not so pricey,” Tilghman said. “My grandparents visited a few times around then and like to tell stories about tasting all the different Coca Colas and watching all the free shows outside of the hotels.”

They sat down next to the fountain that went down the middle of the walkway through the shopping center. 

Tilghman pulled out two shiny pennies from his pocket and handed one to Hamilton. “Make a wish.” He closed his eyes and tossed his in the water. 

Hamilton studied the shiny penny. What did he wish for most? Tilghman’s health? The health of everyone he loved? Guidance for his future? _A_ future? A family, especially a father had always been his biggest wish as a teen and it had come true. He closed his eyes and tossed in the penny. He heard the plink of it hitting the water and sighed. If only.

“Let’s go to the Excalibur and see if we can find you another dragon,” Tilghman said. “M&M World is on the way and we can get candy.”

“Sounds good.” Hamilton stood. “I want to get you something, like a stuffed animal.”

“Okay.” Tilghman wrapped his arm around Hamilton’s shoulders. 

They headed outside and down the Strip with a stop at the Bellagio fountain for another quick break. It was too early in the day to see the water show, though.

“Excalibur is kind of far,” fretted Hamilton. “Is there a bus or something we could take?”

“It’s not that far, Tilghman insisted. 

Hamilton kept an eye on his friend as they walked, worried he’d overdo it and exhaust himself. Tilghman never complained though, except once when Hamilton tried to walk on the outside of the sidewalk.

“You’re tiny,” Tilghman said as he pulled him away from the road. “Someone will bump you into the street and you’ll get run over.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes.

They crossed the street to M&M’s World next to the Coca-Cola Store. Inside was a wall of color and Tilghman got them bags to fill with candy. Besides M&Ms of every color, there were all the different flavor varieties, too. They each made a bag for themselves, then Hamilton made up one for Madison.

“Let me know if you see anything you want,” Hamilton said as they browsed through all the M&M trinkets. He stopped at a rack of keychains. “I bet you never find your name on anything.”

Tilghman snorted. “Nope.” He held up one that said ‘Alex’. “You prefer Alexander, though, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

They paid for their candy and headed to the Coca-Cola side of the building. There, Tilghman searched through stuffed polar bears and Hamilton helped him choose the cutest one.

“Something to help me through chemo,” Tilghman said as he squeezed the bear.

Hamilton bit into his lip and willed back the sudden tears.

Bear purchased, they returned outside and continued the journey down the Strip.

At Excalibur, they sought out some gift shops and looked for dragons.

“So the red dragon is Victor,” Tilghman said as he followed Hamilton. “What was the purple one? He and Victor were in love, right?”

A smile toyed at Hamilton’s lips. “Yeah. The purple one was Amor.”

Tilghman asked more questions and Hamilton told him all the names. He was interrupted, though when Tilghman spotted a shelf of toy dragons. “You need all of these!”

“They’re like twenty-dollars apiece,” pointed out Hamilton as he looked through the well-made toys and knew what he was going to add onto his Christmas list. He took a picture to remember the brand to order online.

“Get at least one now,” Tilghman persisted. “That blue-ish one looks like Destin.”

Hamilton picked through the blue dragons and found one he liked. He was drawn to a white one, too, that would make a good Gwin.

As they got in line to pay, Tilghman insisted he’d buy one.

“You don’t have to,” Hamilton said as he pulled out a credit card from his wallet. “Dad can.”

Tilghman chuckled. “Well, in that case...”

Food came next as it was long past noon. While they finished eating, Hamilton whined enough about walking back to the car that Tilghman agreed they could find a bus to take them back down the Strip.

“I want to go to Lone Mountain tomorrow,” Tilghman said, “you better have some energy then.”

“I will,” Hamilton promised.

They both took it easy when they returned to the Humphreys’ and watched a movie snuggled under blankets on the couch and drank hot chocolate.

When the family returned home, Hamilton retreated to the guest room and called Washington and then Laurens.

“Are you having fun?” Laurens asked.

“Yeah,” Hamilton said. “It’s exhausting trying to keep Tench from overdoing it, though. I don’t think he’s ever taken it easy before.”

“As if you’re any better at relaxing,” Laurens teased. “You’re always busy.”

“Whatever.”

They chatted until Tilghman called Hamilton down for dinner.

 

The next morning dawned a little brisker than the day before but Tilghman insisted they still go to Lone Mountain, which was a local park with a six-hundred-foot tall rocky butte.

“I bet we can make it to the top,” Tilghman said as he found a place to park. “Although you sure whined a lot yesterday.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes.

They got out of the car and headed for the mountain and found a trail. It wasn’t hard going but, obviously, it was uphill. About halfway up, Hamilton noticed Tilghman start to lag. He slowed down and let Tilghman pass him. After a few minutes, he said, “I need a break.” He was sure Tilghman knew he was feigning exhaustion so Tilghman wouldn’t have to acknowledge his own sick body and tiredness but the ruse that Hamilton was whiny and in terrible shape was easier to bear.

“There’s a good rock to sit on up here,” Tilghman said. “If you can make it another ten feet.”

“Debatable.” Hamilton joined him on the flat rock and they took in the view of the suburbs and the Strip in the distance as they shared a bottle of water.

“Did you decide if you’re going to finish law school? Tilghman asked.

Hamilton shrugged. “I dunno.” He crumbled a small piece of sandstone in his fingers. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if I don’t. That’s been my goal forever. It’s what I thought I wanted and what I’ve been working toward. But...”

“Your heart isn’t in it anymore,” Tilghman said.

“Yes and no.” He glanced at his friend. “I wanted to be a lawyer to help people and because it had been exciting before to think of being in a courtroom. I used to be more egotistical and that power and prestige excited me. I thought I could take on the world. I still want to help people but the whole law thing exhausts me now. I don’t think I could handle the stress. But—” he clenched his jaw “—then what is my purpose? I can’t just live at home and spend my life taking whatever job comes my way and never have a career.”

“You’re what, almost twenty-three?” Tilghman patted his arm. “You’re still a baby, Alex. You don’t need to be knee-deep in your career already. You’re growing and finding yourself now and that’s exciting. Enjoy that. You won’t be a failure if you quit law school. You could still find a job—and a career—doing other things with the degree you have. Have you looked at jobs at all?”

Hamilton picked at the rock. “No.” He met Tilghman’s eyes. “What if I do look and it all sucks or I’m not qualified?”

“Well, you should probably see what’s out there. Even if you drop out of law school now, that doesn’t mean you can’t go back,” he reminded. “If you want to help, remember that you have a privileged life, Alex. As long as you’re doing good, Dad will allow you the leisure and support you to make a difference. You just have to decide what you want.”

“Privilege is foreign to me,” Hamilton admitted. “I don’t know what to do with that, and frankly, I’d prefer to ignore it. I can make a difference on my own.” He stared off at the city. “Tench, what if I can’t, though? What if I never am anything?”

“So?” Tilghman took a drink of water. “You are something to your parents and friends. As long as you remain a good person, that’s something. You don’t have to be famous or win a huge award or make a ton of money to live a life that was worthwhile. You’ve already made a difference to several people, any more is just a bonus.” He squeezed Hamilton’s knee. “You’re doing well, Alex. You should be proud of everything you’ve already achieved and not worry about what may or may not come. Nothing will ever be certain.” He tapped his friend’s nose. “Live in the present.”

Hamilton nodded taking in the words and forcing his brain to comprehend them. “I’ll withdraw from law school and look for a job. You’re right that I have, uh, privilege and could take an internship or something to find the job I’ll enjoy. Dad isn’t going to care if I remain at home. I still need to anyway.”

“Good for you, Alexander.” Tilghman smiled at him. “I know you can get a handle on life. I know you’ll find the job that’s right for you and it doesn’t have to be a superhero, okay?”

Hamilton nodded. “I can change my dreams and goals,” he said aloud for his own benefit. “I can take my time and I don’t have to change the entire world, but I can change my own to make it what I need.”

“I’m proud of you.” Tilghman wrapped an arm around him. “Have you thought about fostering when you’re older?”

“Sort of.” Hamilton relaxed into his friend. “I’d like to do what Dad has done but I’d like to have my own kids, too. It’s harder to decide on that stuff.”

“Because you’re still a kid.” Tilghman nuzzled him. “If you decided to foster, you know Dad would help out in every way possible. And with your kids, too. Perhaps with John?” He grinned.

Color crept up Hamilton’s cheeks and he smiled. “Perhaps.”

They headed back down the mountain and got in the car as the wind picked up. On their phones, they searched for somewhere to get lunch. After eating, they returned to the Humphreys’ house to get ready for the Tournament of Kings show they were going to see at the Excalibur that evening with the Humphreys.

They arrived home late after the show, yawning yet too wired to fall asleep. Hamilton and Tilghman lay in bed talking, first about the show and what it would be like to joust then hitting deeper topics. 

“Did you have any good experiences in foster care before Dad?” Tilghman asked.

Hamilton had to think for a minute. “Yeah, a few families did take care of me and treat me as their son but I was difficult. I wasn’t easy for anyone to handle, although it wasn’t my fault. I liked the families that had little kids. Even though I usually had to babysit them constantly, the little kids didn’t insult me or look down on me. They made me feel human and wanted, especially when they asked for me to tuck them in or read them a story.”

“That’s sweet and sad.” Tilghman patted Hamilton’s chest. 

They fell silent and listened to the almost constant noise of distant traffic and sirens of the city.

“Will you lose your hair?” Hamilton asked in a soft murmur.

“Yeah,” Tilghman said and held back a sigh. “Although, I plan to shave it off when I get home. It’ll be less traumatic to lose it all at once.”

“Would you mind if I shaved it off for you?”

“Thanks, Alex.” Tilghman squeezed his hand under the blanket. “I’d appreciate it.”

The next morning, Hamilton handed Tilghman a plastic bag from his suitcase. “Mom made you a bunch of hats. They’re really soft. I had her make me one, too.”

Tilghman pulled out several knitted hats in various colors and patterns.

“The orange one is my favorite,” Hamilton said. “But Mom decided purple would look better on me.”

Tilghman rubbed a hand against the soft yarn. “Mom is the best.”

“She is.”

He laid out all the hats on the bed and took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

In the small bathroom, Tilghman found clippers and a garbage can. He closed the toilet seat and sat down. “At least I know you can’t mess up,” he teased.

“True.” Hamilton ran a hand through his friend’s soft, curly hair. “Ready?”

“Yup.”

He turned on the clippers and listened to the steady hum. Tilghman’s back was to him and he was glad they couldn’t see each other’s faces. Hamilton bit his lip and drew the blade through Tilghman’s hair. The curls tumbled into the garbage can.

Halfway done and biting his lip harder, Hamilton asked in a mumble, “Doing okay?”

Tilghman gave a thumbs up.

Hamilton shaved as close as he could but didn’t have the tools to give an entirely smooth head. He watched Tilghman rub at his bald scalp. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Tilghman said and swallowed. “I’m afraid to look, though.”

“It’s okay.”

Taking a few calming breaths, Tilghman stood and peered at himself in the mirror. Tears shimmered in his eyes. Not for his appearance but for what could happen to him. It was better to lose all his hair at once than in unforgiving clumps in his comb or on his pillow but the sight was a strong reminder of the chemo his body would soon have to endure.

“Thank you, Alex.” He wiped at his eyes.

“You’re welcome.” He held out the clippers to Tilghman. “My turn.”

Tilghman blinked. “What?”

Hamilton pointed at his head. “Shave it off. You’re not alone, Tench. Maybe mine will grow back a different color.”

Fighting back tears again, Tilghman took the clippers. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Hamilton sat and kept his head high as the clippers buzzed near his ear. He closed his eyes at the vibrations against his head as his hair fell down in thick clumps into the garbage can. It was only hair. It would come back. He just hoped that Tilghman’s would have a chance to come back, too.

He felt colder to have his head bald but grinned at Tilghman. “How misshapen is my skull?”

Tilghman rubbed a hand against Hamilton’s stubbly head. “Like you were dropped a bunch of times,” he teased.

Hamilton got up and looked at himself in the mirror. “My nose looks even bigger.”

Tilghman chuckled. He unplugged the clippers and swept up the hair that had missed the garbage can. “You’re a really good friend, Alexander.”

Hamilton turned away from the mirror. “You are, too, Fish.” He held out his hand. “You’ll fight this, okay? I know you’ll win.”

Tilghman grasped it as tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’ll give it my all.”


	72. Chapter 72

Hamilton didn’t tell his parents that he’d shaved his head. He kept his purple hat on as he left the airport and met Washington outside. He spotted the Cadillac and hurried over. He wrapped his arms secure around his dad.

Washington touched the hat, aware at once that there was no red hair peeking out beneath it. “You’re a good person, Alex,” he murmured.

“I learned that from you,” Hamilton replied. He looked up. “Please, tell me Tench is going to be okay.”

Washington held him tight.

 

As he settled back into routine at home, Hamilton remained quieter than usual and kept to his room. He came out for meals with his parents but was quick to retreat, purple hat on his head. 

Washington let him be for a day and followed him upstairs after dinner the next night. 

“I’m okay,” said Hamilton when he heard Washington’s footsteps. “I’m sad for Tench and I don’t want to talk.” 

“I do,” Washington said and sat on Hamilton’s bed. “You quiet has never been good. I know you’re sad and we don’t have to talk for long but I don’t like you hiding up in your room.”

“I’ve been writing,” Hamilton said and retrieved his laptop from the nightstand. He clicked on a few things and brought up a word document. “It’s my dragon story. I’m going to send it to Tench a few chapters at a time as I get it written and edited.”

Washington studied the screen, reading his son’s dramatic words. “He’ll enjoy that.” He tugged at Hamilton’s hat. “Can you do that downstairs, though?”

“I suppose.” He closed his laptop. “If I make random faces, don’t be alarmed.”

Washington chuckled. “Noted.” He started to stand but Hamilton stopped him.

“I’m going to withdraw from law school and look for a job or internship.” He clutched the laptop to his chest. “I can make a difference just doing what I do as me.” He glanced at Washington. “I don’t need fame. I’d rather have a job I can do well and live off of but affords me time to do the things I love more, like write and raise a family in the future.” 

“That’s very mature of you to conclude,” Washington said. “I’m proud of everything you’ve done.” He hugged Hamilton to him. “You’re still going to make a difference, I know.”

“I already have, haven’t I?” he asked. 

Washington nodded and squeezed him tighter. “You became my son.” His voice quivered and he took a deep breath. “Before we fostered you, things had been rough. The boys before you put a lot a strain on Mom and me and Lafayette. You know I don’t like to say bad things about people but those boys were vicious shits. They stretched us to the limits of what we could manage and made us feel like the bad guys.”

Hamilton nodded his understanding. “And with your need to make everything right that couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t.” Washington eased up his tight grip on his son. “Lafayette was having a hard time at school, too. We were all pretty low.”

Hamilton grimaced. “I didn’t make things any better for you guys. I know I was a terror.”

“Yes, but—” Washington smiled “—you had this vulnerable side that drew us in, especially me and you gave me something to fight for. I was going to make sure there was a place in the world for you no matter what. You coming into our lives brought me out of a dark place. Because of that, I was able to continue to make a difference for others, too.”

“Would you have...?” Hamilton twisted the bracelet on his wrist.

“I don’t know.” Washington rested his hand over his son’s. “You arrived before I hit that level of depression, which I am forever grateful.”

“Me, too. Wait—” Hamilton looked at his dad as his brow creased. “—I was not vulnerable when I arrived here. I had all my walls up and was determined to be as unlovable as possible.”

Washington chuckled. “It’s cute you think that. Your nightmares were definitely not lovable but your walls weren’t as high as you think.”

“Yeah, because you’re like ten feet tall,” he grumbled.

Washington poked him in the stomach. “The better to tickle you.”

Hamilton shrieked as Washington tickled him all over and almost fell off the bed.

Breathless on his back, Hamilton panted, “I don’t know if anyone has ever done that to me.”

“Well...” Washington tickled him again until the noise attracted Mrs. Washington and the dogs. At once, Potato and Potomac jumped on the bed and climbed on Hamilton and licked him. Noodle barked from the floor unable to jump that high while Potato nipped at Hamilton’s nose and Potomac licked his ear. On the floor, Mugsley snorted while France yapped.

“Okay, okay!” Hamilton shouted. “I surrender!” He flinched when Noodle licked his bald head as he hung half off the bed. “Don’t be weird, Noodle.”

Washington picked up the fallen purple hat and pushed Hamilton back on the bed. “Your head is all misshapen, isn’t it,” he teased.

“You’re twins,” Mrs. Washington said.

“Ugh.” Hamilton yanked the hat over his head.

“I have another one for you,” Mrs. Washington said and left the room. She soon returned with a bright orange beanie. “It won’t clash with your hair now.”

“Yes!” Hamilton propelled himself off the bed. “I can wear orange now.” He tossed the purple hat on his dresser and pulled on the orange one. He ran to look at himself in the bathroom mirror while his parents chuckled.

Mrs. Washington quieted down the dogs and rubbed a hand over her husband’s shoulder. “We’ll get through this,” she murmured. “One day at a time like we’ve always done.”

Washington nodded. “How’s Jemmy today?” he asked since he knew she’d been at Montpelier earlier.

“Stronger,” she said. “He’s going to be in a wheelchair for a while, though. He has very little feeling in his right leg.”

Washington sucked in a deep breath. Always Jemmy, then Alexander, and now Tench. If another one of his boys… He didn’t want his heart to take it.

***

The next morning, he and Hamilton spent several hours looking for jobs online, printing applications, and writing cover letters. It was stressful and frustrating and Hamilton was over it before they began to work on his resume.

“What are your good qualities?” Washington asked.

Hamilton kneaded his forehead. His fourth application to fill out lay before him on the desk. So far, each one he’d done was different and his brain hurt. “I don’t even know what my name is anymore.”

“Come on, Alex, we’re almost done,” Washington soothed. “Qualities?”

“I haven’t murdered anyone yet?” He filled in his name on the application, carefully putting a _W_ in the initial space.

“Alexander, come on.”

“What? That’s a huge accomplishment.” He sighed. “Um, work well with others, self-motivated, crap like that.”

Washington echoed his sigh and began to type.

Hamilton looked up when Washington continued to type way more words than he’d said. He peered over the desk to read: _Team player, works alone or with others, self-motivated, hard-working, committed, attention to detail._

“You’re exaggerating,” Hamilton said.

Washington typed, _no self-confidence._

“Ugh, I’m tired,” griped Hamilton.

_Whiny_

“Dad, stop!”

With a chuckle, Washington erased the words. “Finish that application, we’re almost done.”

They worked in silence and finished at the same time. Hamilton read over the resume and adjusted a few things. “It’s so sparse,” he lamented. “I’m never going to get a decent job.”

“Not with that attitude.” Washington swatted his backside. “Go rest.”

Hamilton quickly left the office and ran upstairs.

Washington checked over the applications and printed a bunch of resumes. He organized everything for Hamilton to mail out the next day.

Laurens came over for dinner that night and teased Hamilton for his haircut.

“Although, it is a huge improvement over your red hair.” He pulled Hamilton’s orange beanie over his eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” Hamilton said and pushed him on the couch in the front room.

Laurens pulled him on his lap. “I want to hear everything about Las Vegas.”

While they waited for dinner, Hamilton showed him pictures and told him about the trip.

“I’m glad you had fun, Hammy.” Laurens kissed him. “Even though it was sad, too. Tench is awesome. It sucks he has to go through this.”

Hamilton nodded. He snuggled closer into Laurens. “Stay here tonight.”

“Gladly.”

After dinner, the boys stayed in the family room with the Washington’s and dogs. They took control of the TV and found a comedy to watch rather than the usual Family Feud.

Washington glanced up from his iPod occasionally to see them snuggled together, supportive and loving. He set aside his device and got up from his recliner and sat next to his wife—after moving several dogs.

Mrs. Washington smiled at him and patted his leg.

“Did you finish the baby blanket?” he asked.

“I did.” She held up what was on her knitting needles now. “Socks for Tench.”

“He’ll appreciate those.”

She finished a row and set aside her project. Over a foot shorter than her husband, she easily curled into his body and rested her head against his chest. “His grandparents will keep us updated,” she said softly. “We have to hope and pray.”

“It’s already at stage III.” Washington kept his voice low enough that the boys wouldn’t hear.

“He’s getting as strong a treatment as he can take.” She stroked his hand. “Hope and pray, George. Hope and pray.”


	73. Chapter 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas

On Christmas morning, Lafayette and Adrienne arrived in the morning for breakfast and to open presents. Laurens had spent the night and remained in bed while Hamilton wound up the dogs and forced the house awake.

“What’d you get me?” Hamilton grabbed a present from his brother.

Lafayette bopped him with a different package. “You’ll find out soon enough, little lion.” He grinned at his fiancée.

She shook her head and went into the kitchen to see if Mrs. Washington needed any help.

“Alex, get Dad and John up,” Mrs. Washington called from the kitchen. “Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

Hamilton ran for the stairs with Lafayette behind him.

“You get Dad up,” Lafayette said. “I’ll wake John.”

“Okay!” Hamilton ran to the end of the hallway and threw open the door.

The amount of noise he made gave Washington plenty of warning to brace himself when Hamilton jumped on the bed.

“Good morning!” Hamilton shouted as he stood on the bed.

Washington knocked his son’s legs out from under him. “How much sugar have you had?”

“None.” Hamilton yanked the blanket back. “Get up.”

“I’m up.” He’d gotten up ten minutes ago and had already dressed but his curiosity to see how much of a pain Hamilton could be overruled his desire to go downstairs before breakfast.

“Cheater.” Hamilton climbed on his dad’s back as he stood.

“Alright, settle down.” Washington bumped him off onto the bed.

“Race you!” Hamilton jumped off the bed and bolted down the hallway.

“Don’t jump down the stairs!” Washington shouted after him. He cringed when he heard the usual thud of his son jumping down the last five stairs.

“I’m okay!” Hamilton yelled back.

Washington ran a hand down his face.

Before all the commotion occurred, Lafayette slipped into Hamilton’s room and tiptoed to the bed.

Laurens lay on his stomach, arms around his pillow.

Lafayette whispered his name and stroked Laurens’ hair.

“I know it’s you, Laf,” Laurens said. “Pull the blankets off, I know you want to.”

“You did that to me, like, every morning of debate.” He yanked the blankets off the bed. “And you’re naked.”

“Duh.” Laurens pushed himself halfway up. “I was determined to out you with Hercules. Still don’t know how or why you didn’t fuck him.”

“Stop shipping us,” Lafayette groaned. “Get dressed.”

“Nah.” He moved surprisingly fast and tacked Lafayette down on the bed.

“Oh, gross, get off me!” Lafayette squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get away. “Oh, my God, I’m getting debate flashlights,” he shrieked.

Laurens laughed and let him get away. He pulled a sheet over himself. “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

“Ugh.” Lafayette smoothed back his hair. “Yeah, between you trying to turn me gay and Charles being an overall douche, it was great,” he deadpanned.

“You didn’t have to share a bed with him,” Laurens said. “He bit me once.”

Lafayette rolled his eyes. “That’s because you pinched his ass.” He paused to listen to Hamilton yelling. “Get dressed, John.”

An hour later, the family finished eating and started opening presents. The dogs had their own gifts, too. Potato and Noodle soon found their new favorite toys and squeaked them non-stop.

Lafayette stared at Hamilton as he noticed him tearing the paper off of the gift from him.

“What the heck?” Hamilton said as he opened the white box and pulled out a lion onesie.

“It’ll keep you warm,” Lafayette said unable to control the smirk on his face.

Laurens busted out laughing. “You have to try it on, Alex.”

“Oh, I’m gonna,” said Hamilton. He waded through the pile of wrapping paper with his lion suit that was somewhere between a costume and a sleeper. He put it on in the downstairs bathroom and returned grinning.

“Yes!” Laurens shouted. “You’re adorable!”

Lafayette busted out laughing. “That’s too perfect for you.”

Hamilton twirled the tail. “I’m never taking this off.” He let Laurens pet his mane.

Washington hid his face in his hands unable to decide if he wanted to laugh or cry. The women chuckled at the boy’s silliness.

Potato barked and went for Hamilton’s tail.

“Hey, Tato!” Hamilton knelt down. “It’s me.”

Potato cocked her head and barked again.

“But the hood down,” Washington suggested.

Hamilton did so and Potato’s tail wagged and she settled down. He resumed opening his presents, catching his family’s grins and pleased he could keep the mood upbeat.

***

“So you’re really going to wear that,” Laurens commented hours later as Hamilton continued to wear his lion onesie.

“Yup.” He sat on the floor lining up all the dragons his parents and Tilghman had given him. “It’s cozy.” He checked his phone as he received a text. He grinned at Tilghman’s excessive amount of smiley faces over the picture he’d sent of himself. “It’s nice to see everyone happy for a day.”

Laurens knelt behind him and pulled the hood down. He draped his arms over Hamilton’s chest and fiddled with the zipper. “What if I take it off you?”

“I’m only wearing boxers under this.”

“So…” Laurens pulled down the zipper.

“Hey, don’t let the lion out,” Lafayette said as he entered the room. He grabbed the new video game his parents gifted him. “John, want to play?”

“Yeah.” Laurens kissed Hamilton’s cheek and pulled the hood back up.

While the boys played with their new toys in the family room, Adrienne enjoyed hot chocolate with Mrs. Washington in the front room. They talked about the wedding plans while Mrs. Washington showed Adrienne how to use her new crochet hook.

Washington sat with them for a while before he took his drink to the family room to see what his boys were up to. It was a lot noisier as Lafayette and Laurens shouted at the TV. He sat in his recliner to watch, although his attention drifted often to Hamilton as he took pictures of his dragons and sent them to Tilghman.

“How’s Tench?” Washington asked.

“He says he’s feeling pretty good today,” Hamilton replied. He looked up from his phone. “Not sick to his stomach for the first time in a few days.”

“Good.”

 

A few houses down, Jefferson wadded up torn wrapping paper into balls as fast as he could as the Madison children bombarded him with their own wads of paper.

“Jemmy, you’re supposed to be on my team!” he said as his fiancé managed to hit him on the shoulder and retreat quickly in his wheelchair.

“I’ll be on your team,” Nelly said and scampered over to him.

“Thank you.” Jefferson handed her some of his stockpile as he ducked from William and Sarah’s wild throws.

“Raarr!” Bess shouted and charged through the scattered wrapping paper.

Reuben shrieked and stuffed paper in his mouth.

“Benny, no!” Nelly stopped the baby and hoisted him in her arms. “Here, T.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?” He held the chubby baby in a football hold.

“Use it as a shield,” Ambrose suggested as he snuck in and threw balls of paper at everyone.

Screams filled the air and everyone went wild throwing paper at each other.

In the adjacent dining room, Mr. Madison finished his second glass of wine. “We’re good on kids, right?”

Mrs. Madison smiled. “We’ll see.”

Mr. Madison patted the top of his bald head. “I don’t have much hair left, Ellie.”

“You’re still handsome.” She kissed him.

 

Across town, Burr paced his tiny apartment as he waited for Theodosia. She had assured him she would get away from her in-laws and spend the night with him after the Prevost family got drunk. He had turned down Angelica’s offer to spend the holiday upstate with her family and he was growing regretful of the decision by the minute.

He jumped as his phone rang. “Are you here?” he asked Theodosia.

“Just leaving,” she said.

“Come on, Theo,” he whined. “I’m tired of being alone.”

She laughed. “I’m at the front door. Come let me in; it’s snowing.”

Burr hurried to let her in the apartment building and held her tight. Snowflakes melted off her hat and dripped on him as they kissed. He pulled her upstairs and locked the apartment door.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Theodosia set her coat on Angelica’s bed.

“It was worth it.” Burr took in her red wrap dress and curled hair. “You look beautiful, Theodosia.”

She ducked her head shyly. “Thank you.”

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

Burr poured them each a glass of white wine and opened a tin of fudge and cookies Angelica had given him from her parents.

Theodosia sat on Burr’s lap as she drank and nibbled a piece of fudge. “Tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll give Jacques the papers.”

“Do you want me there?” Burr asked.

“Close by would be nice.”

“Wherever you want me.” He rubbed the back of her hand.

She turned and kissed him. “Right now, your bed would be nice.”

Burr grinned. “How did you know what I wanted for Christmas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Thank you absolutetrash_ for the lion onesie suggestion!*


	74. Chapter 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The divorce

Theodosia and Burr’s office remained empty the next day as they rode together to the Prevost firm.

“You can do this,” Burr encouraged her. “I’m here for you.”

Theodosia took a deep breath and knocked on her husband’s office door.

Burr wandered down the hallway as she disappeared inside. He paced and checked his phone constantly. Fifteen minutes passed, then thirty. Worry made his steps faster as he wondered if he should interrupt or call the police. Jacques wouldn’t hit her, right? He knew the marriage was bad and would accept the divorce, right?

Forty-five minutes later, Theodosia closed the door behind her and joined Burr.

Burr searched her face but didn’t see tears or regret. “So…”

“I get to keep my firm,” she said and wrapped her arms around Burr. “Jacques expected this and isn’t going to be a jerk about the divorce. I’ll have my job and some money to get myself a place.”

“I’m glad, Theo.” Burr held her close to him. “You’re okay? I know your whole world changed.”

“I’m okay.” She pulled back to look in his eyes. “I’m probably going to have a good cry tonight when I start packing but I’ll get by.”

“Do you want me to help you?”

She shook her head. “I need to do this alone.” She stroked his cheek. “Let’s go. I’ll drop you off at work and I’m going to put in an application at this cute, little condo downtown.”

Burr squeezed her hand. “Good for you. I love you.”

Theodosia kissed his lips. “I love you, too.”

 

She got the small, two-story brick condo and moved in a week later. While she needed to pack up and come to terms with the divorce and leaving the house she’d lived in for over ten years by herself, Theodosia welcomed Burr’s help unpacking.

The condo was narrow with a kitchen and living space downstairs. Upstairs was a bedroom and a full bathroom.

“Small but enough space for me and a cat,” Theodosia said after she gave Burr the tour that took a whole two minutes.

“Still getting a cat, huh?” Burr said as he looked out the upstairs window at the street lined with similar brick buildings.

“Yes, Mr. Burr.” She tugged him downstairs. “You have boxes to move up here while I unpack the kitchen.”

The divorce ended on mutual terms as Jacques had been well aware—although hoping otherwise—that Theodosia was miserable and cheating on him. He didn’t hold that against her to get himself a better settlement as he already came out ahead since he owned the house and had more investments in his name. Thus, he didn’t argue about any of their belongings and Theodosia was free to take what she needed. Her new home was well furnished and she put several things in storage at her firm for a future larger house. Jacques signed her car over in her name only and paid it off and agreed to pay her a decent amount for the next year until her firm was on stronger footing.

“He’s not going to continue to pester you, is he?” Burr asked. “Jacques knows it’s over even though he’s still giving you money, right?”

“Yes,” Theodosia said. “He has his flaws but I know he’ll leave me be.”

“Good.” Burr hefted two boxes in his arms and lugged them upstairs. He dropped the boxes on the floor and the flaps on the top one popped open. Unable to resist peeking, he caught sight of a photo album on top. He slipped it out from under another book and wished he hadn’t as the words _Our Wedding_ had been concealed. Logic would have thus dictated he put it back but instead, he opened it to see the pictures of a very young-looking Theodosia in her wedding gown with a long train and lace sleeves. She wore a pearl necklace and had strings of pearls in her dark curls.

“Aaron?” Theodosia called from downstairs.

Burr put the album back hurried away. “Yeah?”

“I kind of want everything in place tonight,” she said. “Quit dawdling.”

“Sorry.” He took more boxes upstairs and then unpacked books in the downstairs family room/library/office.

They finished unpacking the house by dinnertime and sat at the small table to enjoy a frozen lasagna Theodosia had put in the oven earlier.

“I’m impressed,” Burr said as he took a bite.

“About?” Theodosia questioned.

“You’re on your own and you have dishes that match, actual food in the house, and you can make a meal.”

“Aaron, love.” She reached across the table and patted his hand. “It’s called adulting and I’ve been doing it for about ten years longer than you. I would hope I’d have some of my stuff together.”

Burr grinned. “At least one of needs to. You know I can’t bring anything to the table, literally.”

“You have a set of matching dishes,” Theodosia reminded him. “If you’d wash them, you might remember.”

Burr rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll work on adulting better. I know we’ll both be happier when we then live together.”

“Indeed, Mr. Burr.”

“Do you want me to stay tonight?” Burr asked. He sipped his glass of water, watching her over the rim.

Theodosia focused on her food. “No, I’ll be okay. I’ll finish getting everything organized tonight and tomorrow. Start fresh on Monday.”

“If you need anything, let me know.”

“I will.”

She took him home after they ate and did the dishes. They lingered in the car holding hands.

“I suppose I’ll see you Monday,” Burr said.

“Bright and early.” Theodosia leaned over and kissed him. “Goodnight, Mr. Burr.”

Burr dragged himself out of the car. “Night, Theo.” He headed into the apartment building and unlocked his door.

Angelica looked up from her book. “You’re home earlier than I expected. Did you get Theodosia moved in?”

“Yup.” Burr sat on the edge of her bed and pulled off his shoes. “It’s a cute place, suits her well.”

“I’m glad.” Angelica tossed her book aside. “Is she holding up okay?”

“I think so.” Burr moved to sit beside her. “I think she had enough time to prepare herself for it that it’s not such a shock. I have to ask…” He trailed off not wanting to be a jerk.

“To prepare myself to eventually move out so your girlfriend can move in?” Angelica said with a smirk.

“Yeah.” Burr bit his lip. “Sorry. It won’t be for a while still. Theo wants and needs to be on her own for a bit and I think her and I need to slow this down now that we can actually be a couple.”

“That’s wise of you.” Angelica rested her head against his. “You might not be quite so dumb anymore.”

“Thanks.” He poked her in the leg with his foot. “Have you ever considered dating, Angelica?”

“I dunno,” Angelica said. “I wanted my career to come first and it did and now I’m not sure how to proceed to the next step.”

“Anyone at work catch your fancy?” Burr asked.

“I’m not going to date a co-worker.” She gave him a pointed look.

“Hey, it’s working for me.” Burr grinned.

Angelica pressed a hand against his face. “Because you don’t think.”

“Alright, alright.” Burr ducked away from her hand. “Okay, so do we know anyone who is single?” He thought for a moment. “Lee is the only one from college not with someone or gay. The Madison’s are all too young and Thomas only has sisters near our age. Hmm…”

“Right?” Angelica sighed. “Did you ever meet Thomas’s older sisters?”

“I’m not sure,” Burr said. “I’m sure I’ve seen them at a party or something.”

“Jane is three years older than him. She’s a doctor now. She works in the next town. Look at this.” Angelica unlocked her phone and pulled up her Facebook app. She showed Burr a picture of Jane in her doctor coat. “How awesome is that? She and Thomas are so smart.”

“Hmm.” Burr stared at her.

“What?” Angelica scrolled through more pictures.

“Do you have a crush on Jane?”

“What?” she repeated. “No.”

“Wow,” Burr deadpanned. “I’ve never been more convinced in my life. You could have told me you were gay. Although, I kind of knew since how could you not be attracted to be otherwise?”

Angelica shoved him off the bed. “Because you’re an ass, Aaron.”

Burr picked himself off the floor. “Well?”

“I do think Jane is pretty,” Angelica said. “And I also do know that she is a lesbian. But she’s all grown up and has her life together and, oh my God, I’ve lived with you too long and I’m trying to emulate your relationship with an older woman.”

Burr busted out laughing. “Yes! I’ve corrupted you! My goal in life is complete.” He bowed. “Thank you, Angelica.”

“Ugh, why do I put up with you?” She smacked him with a pillow.

Burr ducked and climbed back on the bed. “Please, message Jane. Ask her what she’s doing next weekend. You deserve this.”

Angelica twisted a lock of hair. “I don’t know, Aaron. I’ve never come out. I’ve never been completely sure. I’ve slept with a few guys before and I almost hooked up with a girl once but that was all college stuff. Real life is different.”

“No, it’s not.” Burr squeezed her hands. “And anyway, you are totally ready for a grown-up relationship. You’re way more mature than I am and probably more mature than Theo, seeing that she is dating me. Just tell Jane hi. That’s all you have to do.”

Angelica looked at her phone. “Okay. But I’m going to ask Thomas first if she has a girlfriend.”

“Fine.” Burr resumed sitting next to her on the bed and read the message she sent Jefferson.

He responded within a minute. _No, she’s single,_ he wrote. _Going to ask her out finally?_

 _What?_ Angelica replied.

Jefferson sent a laughing face. _I’ve known you had a crush on her since high school. Go for it! I know she likes you, too._

Heat crept up Angelica’s face and she found her usual composure vanishing as she struggled to type a message to Jane. “What do I say?”

A grin spread across Burr’s face. “Apparently ‘hey, we should have hooked up in high school, want to hook up now?’”

Angelica hit him with her phone. “We’re both very career orientated people.”

“Then you’ll be perfect for each other.” He grabbed her phone and typed. _Hi, Jane was thinking about you today. Are you doing anything this weekend? Maybe we could grab lunch and catch up?_ “Yes?”

Angelica nodded and tapped send. “This is terrifying. Why am I so… I don’t even know.”

Burr took her hand. “You’re good, Angelica. You’ve been awesome to me through my fiasco with Theo. I’ll coach you through this.”

“Thanks, but there probably won’t be anything,” she said. “Jane isn’t going to accept.”

The words barely left her mouth when her phone lit up with a message.

 _I’d love to!_ Jane replied. _I was going to be in the area to do some shopping. Want to go to the mall? Then grab dinner?_

Angelica handed her phone to Burr. “Is she being a _girlfriend_ or a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that’s out of my understanding,” Burr said. “She’s asking you to dinner, though. I think that’s a good sign.” He sent a reply to accept. “Plus, if Thomas knows you both like each other, he’ll push his sister in the right direction. She probably texted Thomas, too.”

Angelica nodded. “I don’t know what to think.”

“That maybe you won’t go another year without sex?”

Angelica hit him with her phone. “Why do I put up with you?”

“If I get you a girlfriend,” Burr said, “you will no longer be able to ask that.”

“Get.” She shoved him off the bed again.


	75. Chapter 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Duck

That January proved a different experience for each young man as he tried to navigate his life.

Jefferson returned to law school for a grueling second semester of his second year. In order to keep working at Reynold’s firm, he took several night classes but that meant little time to see Madison. They figured out a schedule, though, and twice a week, Jefferson stopped by Montpelier about ten o’clock and woke Madison so they could drink hot chocolate and talk about their days.

Madison’s physical progress grew stagnant and he and his family tried to remain optimistic. He’d grown more coordinated and sure of himself in his wheelchair and relied less on his family to help him go about the day. It was a huge relief to his parents once he learned to use the bathroom alone, although Jefferson continued to help him bathe. Going back to work was the last thing on Madison’s mind and Washington didn’t bring it up either.

For Burr, he could see his life coming together. He had his job and a girlfriend. He could afford to heat the apartment reasonably warm and didn’t have to return home and bundle up in his bed. He and Angelica invested in a TV and streaming service. Theodosia came over on Friday nights for pizza, drinks, and movies.

Laurens, too, thrived as he worked a day shift at a downtown restaurant and bartended at night three times a week. While he didn’t hate living with his aunt’s boyfriend and enjoyed having his little siblings nearby again, he wanted on his own and saved every dollar he made. A few nights a week, he stayed at Mount Vernon to boost Hamilton’s mood.

Because Hamilton remained unemployed and frustrated. But the free time proved beneficial as Mrs. Washington was needed at Montpelier and someone needed to keep Mount Vernon in order. He took care of the dogs, learned how to do the laundry properly, including how to fold towels. He vacuumed and dusted. And in a huge trust fall from his parents, they allowed him to make dinner and he didn’t burn the house down.

***

Jefferson tossed his bag on his desk and dragged his chair over to Angelica’s half of their tiny office. He’d never hurried from law school so fast before. “Spill, Angelica. I need to know everything.” She’d had her date with Jane that weekend.

Angelica continued to work on her computer but she couldn’t keep away the smile growing across her face. She pushed away from her computer and leaned over her desk. “We held hands.”

Jefferson grinned. “Yes! Did you kiss?”

Angelica rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t even an official date yet, T. You didn’t kiss James for two years.”

“Because he was sixteen,” Jefferson said. “We kissed on our first date.”

“Fine.” She licked her lips. “I’ll kiss your sister when I see her next weekend.”

“Good.” His eyes sparkled. “Tell me everything else that happened.”

“First, you tell me what Jane said,” Angelica insisted.

Jefferson pulled out his phone and showed her the smiley face and exclamation point riddled text he’d received from his sister Saturday night.

Angelica couldn’t fight the smile off her face. She told him about their shopping excursion to a bunch of little boutique stores. “Jane finds the best stuff. One store had all these beautiful scarves and she showed me how to best use one in my hair. Jane has amazing makeup skills. She’s going to teach me a few things.” She continued about their dinner at a Cajun restaurant. “The crab cakes were amazing. I mean, everything was good but I hardly remember what we ate because we were talking so much.”

Jefferson could only grin as he listened to her talk.

She finally ran out of things to say and asked, “Does your mom know Jane is a lesbian?”

“Probably,” Jefferson said, “and probably ignoring it the same way she did that I was gay.”

Angelica nodded. “I’m so overwhelmed and excited and my heart hasn’t stopped pounding since Friday.”

“Aww.” Jefferson squeezed her hands. “I’m excited for you, Angelica. Not to be a downer but just to say it, but if things don’t work out don’t feel obligated to stay with Jane because she’s my sister, okay? Your happiness is more important.”

Angelica nodded. “Thank you.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You mean the world to me, T.”

Regretfully, Jefferson returned to his desk and began his work. He looked up when he heard Angelica’s phone ding with a text and smiled to see the excitement on her face. He hoped it would work out between her and Jane. They were both strong, amazing women and deserved the best life and he hoped it would be together.

***

When Mrs. Washington had to run errands, Hamilton offered to spend the morning with Madison and she dropped him off at Montpelier.

“Lecks!” Bess shouted and scooted herself quickly down the stairs.

“Hey, little thing,” Hamilton said and picked her up. “Is Jemmy upstairs?”

“Yeah. I know where babies come from,” she informed him.

“Oh, boy,” Hamilton said and moved her hand off his nose.

“I tell you.”

“Oh, boy,” he repeated.

She wiggled out of his arms and pointed at the stairs for him to sit. She stood in front of him with her hands clasped behind her back and her chubby belly sticking out. “When a mommy and a daddy decide they want a baby,” Bess said, “they have quiet time in their room. Just them. Then the baby grows in the mommy’s belly.” She pointed at her stomach. “The baby grows and grows and the mommy gets fat. When baby is ready it comes out here—” She pointed lower “—and the mommy screams and screams and the baby comes out and screams, too. Then the daddy cuts the umbrella cord and they take the baby home.”

“Umbilical cord,” Hamilton corrected as he struggled not to grin.

“Yes,” she said seriously. “I know how two daddies can have a baby, too.”

“Oh?” Hamilton watched her in amusement.

“Yes.” Bess bobbed her head. “A daddy can’t have a baby in his belly but two daddies can have a mommy carry the baby for them and she does the birth thing and gives the daddies the baby to take care of forever. Or, the daddies can go to a place that has babies that mommies and daddies can’t take care of. They can take one home as their own baby.” Her big blue eyes watched Hamilton. “Is that what Uncle George and Aunt Martha did with you? They can’t have their own babies.”

Hamilton pulled Bess toward him and cuddled her on his lap. “I had a mommy who raised me until I was thirteen,” he told the little girl. “But she got sick and I didn’t have anyone to take care of me so I went into foster care. That’s where kids can go if their mommies and daddies can’t take care of them at that time but might be able to later. Or where kids go when they are looking for a new family like I was.”

“Did you have a daddy?” Bess asked and reached for his nose.

“He—” Hamilton paused as he realized how much of Mr. Stevens he’d managed to erase from his mind as he’d been about to tell Bess about James Hamilton. “He left,” he decided to go with.

“Oh. Sometimes daddies do that.”

Hamilton nodded. “You are a very smart little girl, Bess.”

“I know.” She wiggled off his lap. She ran off toward the kitchen and yelled for a cookie.

Grinning, Hamilton headed upstairs and into Madison’s room.

“I thought you got lost,” Madison said. “I need you to help me with my bath.”

“Bess had to tell me where babies come from,” Hamilton said. “And how two daddies can get a baby.”

“She’s pretty proud of learning that. You know my parents were worried she’d have trouble speaking,” Madison said as he maneuvered off his bed into his wheelchair. “I don’t think there is any fear she has developmental delays anymore.”

“Nope. I could carry you, Jem.”

“I kind of doubt it,” Madison said.

“You weigh, like, fifty pounds.” Hamilton followed him down the hall to the guest bathroom where there was a smaller tub. “What do you need me to do?”

“Put me in the tub and get me back out,” Madison said. “Mom washed my hair yesterday but Thomas has only been able to stop over at night so I haven’t had a bath in, like, a week. Mom can’t lift me and Dad doesn’t know what he’s doing. I know this is weird.”

“Nah.” Hamilton turned on the tub and waited for the water to get hot. “Bubble bath?”

“Yes, please.” He pulled off his sweater.

As the tub filled with water, Hamilton poured in plenty of bubble bath. “How is everything going?”

Madison tugged off his socks. “I can stand with the aid of a crutch now for about a minute but I have to get stronger before I can attempt to walk. My right leg is still pretty useless. My arms are getting stronger, though. Look.”

Hamilton looked over as Madison flexed his scrawny arms. He grinned. “Wow, I think you have me beat, little duck.”

Madison beamed. “I’m almost ready for you.”

The tub was full and Hamilton turned it off. “Okay. How do I do this?”

“Support me under the knees and against my back,” Madison explained. “You’ll want to roll your sleeves up or you’ll get wet.”

Hamilton stared at his left wrist. He hadn’t put on his bracelet since he wore long sleeves. It was silly to fret, though. Madison was revealing a lot more to him, yet he was sensitive about showing his wrist. Hamilton pushed up his sleeves and scooped Madison out of his chair. He lowered his friend carefully into the bubbly water. “Good?”

“Perfect,” Madison said. “Thank you.” He glanced at the pink scar slashed across Hamilton’s wrist. It was the first time he’d seen it and mortality smacked him in the face. “Alex?”

“Yeah, little duck?” Hamilton dried off his hands and pulled down his sleeves.

“You haven’t felt suicidal in a long time, have you?”

“No.” Hamilton sat on the rug and leaned against the cabinet under the sink. He watched Madison in the bubbles, strongly aware of how thin and fragile he looked. “Don’t die on us either, okay?”

Madison nodded.


	76. Chapter 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comments are really, really appreciated!

The front door opened and Mrs. Washington heard footsteps head up the stairs. “Alex isn’t home, dear,” she called out to Laurens.

The footsteps stopped and then headed toward the kitchen. “Is he still at his interview?” Laurens asked.

“Yes, I’m hoping that’s a good thing.” She emptied a grocery bag onto the counter. “Will you let the dogs in?”

Laurens headed through the family room and slid open the back door. The tiny pack barged in and danced around Mrs. Washington.

“Good kids,” she cooed and gave each one attention.

The rumble of the garage door opening sent the pack running out and they all barked at Washington as he came inside.

He entered the kitchen and looked at Laurens putting away groceries. “Where is our actual child?”

“Not home yet,” Mrs. Washington said. She paused to kiss him.

Washington set his briefcase on the counter and pulled out his phone. “Should I call him?”

“What if he’s still in his interview and forgot to turn off his phone?” Mrs. Washington said. “I wanted to call him earlier myself.”

Washington weighed the odds. If Hamilton was still interviewing and his phone went off, he’d been seen as unprofessional and that could mar his chances. This was only his second interview and Washington hated to be the cause of him not getting a job. On the other hand, if something were wrong, he’d hate himself even more.

Luckily, he didn’t have to make the choice as the garage rumbled again as Hamilton pulled in. The dogs raced to great him and Hamilton came into the kitchen with Potato in his arms.

“How’d it go?” Washington asked.

“Okay, I think.” He set Potato down as she squirmed to investigate something Noodle found on the floor. “I didn’t stutter and I think I projected confidence.”

“Good job.”

“Well, you look sharp,” said Laurens. He brushed a bit of Potato fur off his dark dress shirt.

“Thanks.” Hamilton loosened his tie. “How long until dinner?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Mrs. Washington said.

The boys headed upstairs. Laurens unbuttoned Hamilton’s shirt. “Did you sweat enough?” he teased as his fingers brushed the drenched undershirt.

“Professional interviews are terrifying,” Hamilton said. “I should shower.” He tossed the sweaty shirt in his hamper.

Laurens patted his chest. “You are very sticky.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes and brushed off Laurens’ hands. He headed across the hall and turned on the shower. “What?” he asked as his boyfriend followed him. “I’ll be out in two minutes. You’re not getting in with me.”

“Just going to keep you company,” Laurens said.

“Ugh.” Hamilton got in the shower and Laurens promptly flushed the toilet.

A shriek echoed in the small room as the cold water hit Hamilton.

“Whoops,” Laurens said. “Hand slipped.”

Hamilton glared at him around the shower curtain. “Liar.”

A devilish grin stole across Laurens’ face.

Hamilton quickly hid behind the curtain to conceal his own smile. He turned off the water a minute later. “Are you going to hand me a towel, Jack?”

“Nah.”

“Come on!”

Laurens threw a washcloth over the top of the shower.

“I hate you.”

Laurens grabbed a towel off the rack. “I got one, I promise.”

Hamilton stepped out of the shower and let Laurens wrap him up. “Thank you.”

“Have some faith in me.” He opened the bathroom door and followed Hamilton out only to yank the towel away.

“John Laurens!” He hurried into his room and slammed the door.

“Sorry, I know I’m a jerk,” Laurens said as he scratched his nails against the door. “I won’t do it again.”

The bedroom door opened and Hamilton leaned against the doorframe wearing sweatpants. “Why am I dating you?” he asked as his eyes sparkled.

“I’m cute?” Laurens gave him wide, puppy-dog eyes.

“Dammit, you’re right.” He pulled on a long-sleeve shirt and a hoodie.

They entered the kitchen as Mrs. Washington was putting food on the table.

“What was all the noise?” Washington asked as he poured wine.

“John’s a jerk,” Hamilton said. He sat with his bare feet tucked beneath him. “He’s cute, though.”

Washington gave a faint grumble in his throat.

“What?” Laurens questioned. “Am I not cute?”

“You’re very handsome, dear,” Mrs. Washington said and patted his shoulder. “Dad doesn’t like doors slamming.”

“Sorry, that was me,” Hamilton said.

“You boys better respect each other,” Washington chided and set a stern gaze on Laurens, who was quick to lose his grin and lower his head.

“We do. Dad, don’t freak out,” Hamilton mumbled. He pushed a glass of wine closer to Washington.

“That better be the truth.” Washington sipped his drink. “Tell us about your interview, Alexander.”

Eager to put the conversation aside, Hamilton launched into a detailed story of his interview that made everyone struggle not to yawn.

After dinner, Laurens followed Washington out of the kitchen. “Alex knew I was teasing him, sir,” he blabbered. “I’m not being a jerk to him, I promise. I won’t bother him like that in the future. I don’t want you to worry.”

“I know, John,” Washington said. He turned around before he went upstairs. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just—” He rubbed at his lips. “—almost the anniversary of...”

“Oh.” Laurens’ shoulders dropped. “Oh, shit.” He buried his teeth in his bottom lip. “Damn.” He seemed to slump even further. “I’m going to bury myself in bed now.”

“John.” Washington squeezed his shoulder. “You teasing him is probably the best thing right now. Keep him smiling.”

Laurens nodded and watched Washington head upstairs. “Sir?”

Washington paused, back turned.

“Are you doing okay?”

Washington closed his eyes briefly. “Well enough, John, thank you.”

Laurens remained at the bottom of the stairs until Washington disappeared from sight down the upstairs hallway. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, smiled and returned to the kitchen.

Hamilton pounced on him, half-climbing in Laurens’ arms. “I missed you.” He nipped at his boyfriend’s ear. 

It took all Laurens’ self-control not to bawl. How could he have forgotten Hamilton had attempted suicide a year ago that week? What would he have done if his best friend had died? He’d been terrified then and now even more felt at stake. He couldn’t live without Hamilton.

“Hey, don’t eat me,” he said with only the faintest quiver in his voice. “Save it for the bedroom,” he said in a low murmur.

“Done.”


	77. Chapter 77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The anniversary.

As the unfortunate day approached, Hamilton grew quieter. He didn’t hide up in his room but he didn’t write on his laptop either. He did his chores and retreated to Washington’s recliner to watch TV after each one. Every time he moved his left arm, he tugged at his sleeve to ensure the scar remained covered. He upped his therapy that week and his parents kept a close eye on him and his medication. During meals, they tried to keep things light and spoke of Lafayette’s upcoming nuptials.

When he realized how close the date Lafayette picked was to Hamilton’s suicide attempt, Washington questioned his other son.

“We didn’t realize,” Lafayette admitted. “Adrienne wanted it near Valentine’s Day. Maybe it’ll help this month be more cheerful in the future.”

“I hope so,” Washington said. “Putting together the decorations and party favors has kept Alexander busy.

But the nightmares started the night before.

The first scream had barely formed before Washington was out of bed. He hurried across the hall. He half expected to see his son covered in blood and didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he turned on the light.

Folded over on the bed as cries spilled free, Hamilton held himself tight.

Washington sat next to him and pulled him close.

“I was dead.” Hamilton clawed at his dad as if he couldn’t get close enough. “I don’t want to die!”

“I know.” Washington stroked the rough fuzz covering his son’s head. “You’re safe. You’re getting better and we’ll get through this. It’s just a few rough days. These don’t define you.”

Hamilton bobbed his head and sucked in a deep breath. “Can you come to therapy with me tomorrow?”

“Of course.” An extra day or two to plan and reschedule classes would have been nice but he’d find a way to make everything work. His son had never requested his presence at therapy before and he wasn’t about to decline.

He stayed with Hamilton that night and his plan to teach his first two classes in the morning evaporated when he woke to find his son trembling beside him. Washington rubbed his back and struggled to find words as his mind reminded him of everything that had happened a year ago. What had he been doing that morning? It had been a Sunday. Had he and his wife gone to church? If it had been cold, they probably hadn’t but he couldn’t remember what the weather had been. He realized he couldn’t remember much about last February at all except the pain. But damn if he couldn’t remember the call. _Your son, Alexander, is in the hospital. It appears he tried to..._

Washington sucked in a deep breath and pulled Hamilton tighter to him. “We’ll be okay,” he whispered.

The therapy appointment wasn’t until eleven. Hamilton refused to get up and Washington couldn’t leave him. 

Mrs. Washington came in a little after eight. “George?”

Washington just shook his head. 

She sat next to her son and stroked his cheek with one hand while she handed her husband his phone with the other. 

He grimaced at the multiple messages and emails. He sent out an email to his students to cancel for the day and apologize for the short notice. He wasn’t close to any of these students. None would know the significance of the date.

Finished with that, he moved onto the text from Laurens. 

_What am I supposed to do today?_

Washington didn’t know what to say and stared at the screen. “Alex,” he murmured, “do you want to see John today or...” He couldn’t get the words out to ask if that would be a trigger since Laurens had found him.

Hamilton wiped at his eyes as he clung to his mom’s hand. “I don’t know.”

Fumbling to type, Washington managed to get out, _Alex isn’t sure yet if he can see you today but he and I will be gone from 10:30 to 1:00 if you want to stay with Martha for a bit._

 _Thank you_ , Laurens replied a moment later. 

Washington handed his phone to his wife so she’d be aware.

She nodded.

“Where’s Potato?” Hamilton whispered. 

“Outside,” Mrs. Washington said. “I’ll get her for you.”

Until ten o’clock, Hamilton stayed in bed and snuggled with Potato and Noodle. Washington remained by his side, lost in his thoughts, none of them good.

They left at ten-thirty for the therapist’s office. Washington had met with Hamilton’s therapist, Martin, a few times to discuss treatment plans and medication but he wasn’t privy to what Hamilton and the therapist discussed nor had he been to any of the sessions with his son. While he’d been to therapy himself, he found this one wildly different and well-suited to Hamilton’s needs. 

“It’s good to see you again, George.” Martin shook his hand and indicated for him and Hamilton to sit on a couch. There was a table in front of them with various toys and puzzles, some paper and crayons, and several stress balls and stuffed animals to squeeze. 

“Has today been difficult?” asked the therapist.

Hamilton nodded, tears welling in his eyes. He distracted himself with the toys on the table.

Throughout the session, Hamilton fidgeted with the toys and scribbled with the crayons. He didn’t back down from discussing anything, though. The mild distractions helped him get the words out. 

Washington listened, heart breaking, as Hamilton described his mood. The embarrassment he felt knowing how much pain he caused his family last year, the remembrance of how low his mood had been and how much he feared falling back into that pit of despair that reigned over him right then. 

“I really want to cut myself,” he admitted as he rolled a toy car over the back of his hand. 

“How strong would you say the urge is?” Martin asked.

“I’ve had stronger.” Hamilton gnawed on his lip. “I know I can fight it but thinking about it makes me believe that will be the only way I can get relief. I know that’s not true and I’m trying to believe that.”

“Good.” Martin watched him. “Why do you want to cut today?”

“Release.” Hamilton set the car down and picked up a crayon. He drew slashing lines across a piece of paper in red. He let out a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed. 

“Did that help?”

“Yeah.”

When Martin asked about his feeling about today, Washington didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t lie. “Worn out,” he said. “Sad, hurt.” He looked at his son. “Scared.”

Hamilton nodded, indigo eyes shimmering.

“It was the worst day of my life.” He swallowed back the growing lump and squeezed Hamilton’s hand. “But we survived.”

The tears spilled free and Hamilton pressed his face against his dad’s side.

“You’re stronger now,” Washington soothed him. “It was never your fault. Don’t try to apologize. There was nothing ever to be sorry for.”

“I can see why your dad means so much to you,” the therapist told Hamilton. “He’s a remarkable man.”

Hamilton nodded, drawing himself back and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “We saved each other.”

The session continued a little longer until both were exhausted but assured they were capable of handling the rest of the day. The evening would be difficult and the therapist gave them a list of suggestions on what to do to keep their minds off reliving that night.

While they were gone, Laurens stopped by to have a good cry with Mrs. Washington but he respected that Hamilton might not be able to deal with seeing him. No one could know what would be a trigger and avoiding the likely causes seemed the best idea. 

Hamilton rested on the couch downstairs after they returned home, multiple dogs on top of him. 

In the kitchen, Washington sat at the table with his wife and texted back a worried Jefferson.

 _Ask him when he wakes up if I can come over,_ Jefferson wrote. _I don’t work today._

About an hour later, Hamilton woke and dragged himself off the couch, more because he really had to use the bathroom than any desire to leave the pile of dogs.

“Thomas would like to visit,” Washington said once he saw him up. “If you want to see him.

Hamilton nodded. “Can he spend the night?”

“That’s fine with me if he’s able to.” Washington texted him back and Jefferson was quick to respond that he could spend the night and would be over in an hour. Since he wasn’t working that day, Washington knew that meant he had several afternoon or evening classes that he was skipping. While education was important to him and he didn’t want Jefferson to get further behind then he probably already was, he didn’t say anything and knew being together would benefit the boys a lot more than a few law classes.

Hamilton waited at the bottom of the stairs and opened the front door when he heard Jefferson pull up in the driveway. He hugged himself against the cold until Jefferson was inside and embraced him. 

“Remember, you’re stronger now than you were a year ago,” Jefferson told him, as he held on tight. “You’re not in the same bad mental place.”

“You’re right,” Hamilton murmured. 

Jefferson kissed the top of his head. “I promise it’s not that cold out. Will you come outside and build a snowman?”

“Yeah.”

Hamilton bundled up with sweatpants over his skinny jeans, his heavy parka, hat, gloves, boots, and a scarf while Jefferson borrowed gloves from Washington and zipped up his coat.

They made the snowman in the front yard, tossing snowballs at each other while they worked until there was a smile on Hamilton’s face and his cheeks were rosy. Once the snot started to drip off his nose, though, Jefferson decided they’d been outside long enough. 

In the entryway, Hamilton stripped off his layers while the dogs barked and ate the clumps of snow that fell off his sweatpants. 

From the front window, Washington admired their snowman. “Very nice.” He turned around. “Alex, don’t strip in the entryway.”

“I have jeans on underneath,” Hamilton assured as he pulled down his sweatpants.

“Sometimes I never know with you.” He shook his head with a teasing smile. “Hot chocolate?”

“Yes!” Hamilton followed him into the kitchen while Jefferson gave Potato a wide berth to follow them.

As they sipped their drink, Hamilton asked, “Is James okay with me borrowing you for a night?”

“Yeah.” Jefferson dunked a large marshmallow in his drink. “He sends his love and says you’re welcome to come over and watch movies with him anytime.”

“Awesome.”

While the boys enjoyed their drinks and marshmallows, Washington slipped away to answer a call from Laurens. “What’s wrong?” he asked and closed the door to his office.

“I’m freaking out,” Laurens said, almost crying.

“Are you home by yourself?” Washington kept his voice calm.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’ll call you back when I’m in the car.” He hung up and lied to Hamilton that he had to run to the college for a minute to let a professor in who locked himself out. The lie made little sense even to himself but he couldn’t think of another mild emergency. Hamilton would get upset if he told him Laurens was having a difficult time.

He called Laurens back as he turned out of the driveway. “Where’s your aunt at?”

“They all went out for dinner,” Laurens said. “I should have gone with them but I’m not in the mood for a noisy dinner.”

“I understand.” He kept Laurens talking about mundane things as he headed across town to the address Laurens gave him. 

When he went inside, Laurens was quick to latch onto him. Washington held him tight and felt the young man melt into him and release a deep breath.

“Do you know what’s upsetting you?” Washington asked. 

Laurens turned his head so his voice wasn’t muffled against his mentor’s shoulder. “I keep reliving what happened.” He shivered. “I went to take a shower and the sound of the water...” He tensed. “It—I couldn’t move. I can’t stop staring at the clock and know that soon Alex will come into the dorm. He’ll ask how my day went and I’ll show him my tips and ask him if he wants to watch a movie. He’ll agree but take off his phoenix medallion and not come back.” His voice cracked. “I shouldn’t have waited so long. When he told me it wasn’t my fault, I should have known something was wrong. I should—”

“John.” Washington drew Laurens away from him and gripped his shoulders. “You couldn’t have known. None of us knew how bad his mental state was that night. He survived and he’s surviving. We’ll get through tonight and the next few days. We’ll keep reminding him and ourselves that this year is not last year. Okay, John? It won’t happen tonight.”

Laurens nodded.

Washington wiped away his tears. “When will your aunt return?”

“Not for another hour at least.”

Washington went through his mental list of boys who could keep Laurens company since he needed to return home to Hamilton. “I’ll take you over to Lafayette’s. He doesn’t live far from here.”

Laurens agreed and grabbed his shoes and coat.

Washington called his other son as they walked outside to make sure Lafayette was home. 

“Come on over,” Lafayette said. “How is Alex?”

Washington mentioned how the day was going but kept his own selfish thoughts to himself about how he wished the day were over.

Lafayette and Mulligan had rented the apartment since college and Adrienne had moved in with them a year ago. She let them in, as the boys were busy with their video game. 

“Hey, John,” Lafayette called out. “We have a third controller for you.” 

Laurens took a seat between them on the couch and accepted the controller. 

“All good?” Washington asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Laurens said. “Do you think I can call Alex tomorrow?”

“I’d think so. See you later.”

The boys called out their goodbyes and Adrienne saw him to the door.

Mount Vernon had a warm, cozy glow with the lights on and looked like the safe haven it was in the wintry world. Washington pulled into the garage and found his family at the kitchen table doing a puzzle and eating popcorn.

“That was longer than a minute,” Hamilton said.

“Sorry.” Washington kissed his head. He took a seat and helped with the puzzle.

The usual bedtime of nine-thirty came and went. The dogs crashed on the couch, except Potato, who gave her family an annoyed look and went upstairs by herself to sleep on the bed. Washington made more popcorn. No one spoke much, focused on the task.

A little after eleven-thirty, the puzzle of a group of happy cows and sunflowers was complete. Judging by the worn box, Washington guessed the puzzle had come from a garage sale almost thirty years ago when he and Mrs. Washington had been stocking up on games and activities for the foster children. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the puzzle finished before.

“We should frame it,” Mrs. Washington said as they all looked at those happy cows.

“Yes,” Hamilton agreed. “Can we hang it in my room?”

“Of course.” Washington stood and rubbed his fuzzy head. “But now it’s time for bed.”

Hamilton and Jefferson said their goodnights to the Washington’s and left the kitchen. Jefferson headed for the stairs but Hamilton moved toward the downstairs hallway.

“Where’re you going?” Jefferson turned around to follow him.

“Bathroom.” He closed the door to the powder room. 

Jefferson waited for him. It was the only bathroom in the house without a shower and he guessed that was Hamilton’s reason for not going upstairs to use his own. 

When he came out, Hamilton held his arms out to Jefferson. “Carry me, please.”

Jefferson grinned. “Fine, but only on my back.”

“Okay.” He wrapped his arms around Jefferson’s neck as he squatted down. 

Jefferson grabbed his backpack on the way upstairs and dropped it and Hamilton on the bed. “I’ll change and be right back.”

Alone, Hamilton changed into his pajamas and sat on the edge of his bed. He twisted the bracelet around his wrist. Sometimes he could think of nothing but how much pain he’d been in last year and other times he wondered how he could have been in such a dark place. Right then, it was one of the latter moments for which he was grateful. He could see the hope in his life, the love. He may not yet be on the career path he expected but he was more blessed than he ever expected with friends and family. He had parents who adored him beyond anything else; an amazing boyfriend who stood by him; a best friend, even though he’d once been a nemesis, who’d drop anything to make sure he was okay. He would be a groomsman at his brother’s wedding soon and the best man of his other dear friend in the fall. All of that warmed his heart and filled him with a contentment he’d never have fathomed last year just as he couldn’t feel that previous pain right now. Life was never stasis. Vicissitudes would always occur. He knew it would be hard to remember this good feeling if he hit rock bottom again but if he could remember the hope that everything would change if he could just stay strong another day, he could survive. The past didn’t define him. 

Washington came in to say goodnight again. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah, I actually am,” said Hamilton. He looked up at his dad. “I know you’re hurting, too, but we made it through the worst day. This crisis can only get weaker.”

Washington hugged him. “I always knew you were very smart. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bright and early,” Hamilton said with a smile. “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Oh, boy.” Washington hugged him again and returned to his room. 

Jefferson turned off the hall light as he came into the bedroom. “All good?” he asked before he shut off the next light.

“Yeah.” Hamilton got under the covers as the room went dark. 

“Do you still kick?” Jefferson questioned as he joined him.

“Probably.” He stretched out and kicked his friend.

“Great.” He stared at the ceiling and listened to the quiet mumbles across the hallway as the Washington’s settled the dogs into bed. That would be his life one day, he figured, except with cats. He fell asleep a few minutes later with Hamilton snuggled close against him.


	78. Chapter 78

Bright early was more like nine in the morning. Hamilton yawned and found his bearings as he realized he was half on top of Jefferson. 

Jefferson woke and groaned. “Why is there always a creature on me when I sleep here?” he teased and rubbed Hamilton’s fuzzy head. “Get off.” 

“Good morning to you, too.” Hamilton rolled out of bed. “I have to make breakfast.” He ran out of the room. 

The downstairs remained dark and quiet since his parents decided to take their leisure and sleep in, too.

Since he knew actual cooking was still not an option for him—the dinners he’d made had mostly consisted of putting frozen food in the oven, Hamilton grabbed a tube of cinnamon roll dough out of the fridge and turned on the oven. 

Jefferson joined him and made scrambled eggs.

Bacon sizzled in the microwave and coffee brewed when the pack of dogs ran down the stairs with a noisy clamor of yaps and snorts. The Washington’s followed not far behind.

“It smells good in here,” Washington said. “Impressive.”

Hamilton grinned.

Since the puzzle remained on the kitchen table, the family had breakfast in the front room with the dogs begging the entire time. They knew not to beg at the kitchen table but anywhere else was fair game.

After he’d eaten, Jefferson got ready to go so he could make it to a few classes that day. “Unless you need me,” he told Hamilton. “I can stay.”

“I’m feeling pretty good,” Hamilton said. “Thank you for coming over yesterday.”

“Not a problem.” Jefferson kissed his forehead and went upstairs to get his bag.

Hamilton took their plates into the kitchen and returned to sit on Washington’s lap.

“What’s wrong?” Washington asked, mind racing for the cause and what he needed to do and say.

“Nothing.” Hamilton leaned against him. “I feel, like content, maybe even happy and I don’t understand. This feeling is too foreign.”

Washington relaxed. “Enjoy it. Don’t over analyze it.” He rubbed Hamilton’s chest. “You deserve this happiness. You worked your butt off to get where you are.”

“I did, didn’t?”

“Indeed.” Washington squeezed him tight. 

After Jefferson left, Hamilton went upstairs to call Laurens. He eagerly listened to the call ring, ready to chat and make plans. His mood dimmed at the panic in Laurens’ voice.

“Oh, thank God, you called,” blurted Laurens. “I’ve been worried. I didn’t sleep last night. Are you okay?”

“Jack...” Hamilton struggled against the whiplash. “Babe, I’m okay. Honest, I feel good. I’m sorry—”

His voice got lost in Laurens’ sob.

“Jack?” Hamilton chewed on his lip. “John, talk to me.” He heard someone else enter the room.

“Alex?” said Shae, Laurens’ aunt. “Any chance you can come over? I don’t think he’s going to calm down until he sees you.”

“On my way,” Hamilton said. He hung up and ran downstairs. “Dad! John needs us.”

Washington came out of the kitchen where he’d been measuring the puzzle to know what size frame to get. “What’s going on?”

“He’s crying.” Hamilton shoved on his snow boots. “I didn’t know...” He trailed off wondering if he’d been selfish or if it was okay that he’d taken the day to concentrate on himself. But he hadn’t realized how hard it would have been for Laurens. “Can you drive?”

“Sure.” Washington accepted his coat from Hamilton and told his wife where they were going.

Fifteen minutes later, Washington pulled into the driveway and Hamilton rushed up to the front door and pressed the doorbell in rapid succession.

Shae answered the door and directed Hamilton to Laurens’ room. He had his own room downstairs while his siblings shared upstairs.

“John!” Hamilton threw himself on the bed and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “I’m here and everything is okay.”

Laurens clung tight to him. “You’re alive,” he whispered. “I couldn’t have borne a repeat.”

“I’m okay, Jack. I promise.” He tightened his grasp. “I wish I’d known you were this worried. I would have—”

“No.” Laurens loosened Hamilton’s hold. “Taking care of your mood yesterday is what you needed to do.” He wiped his eyes. “I’m just so glad you’re here now.”

“Me, too.” He stroked Laurens’ cheek and realized his boyfriend had somehow ended up on his lap and his legs were going numb. “So, um, there’s a reason I sit on people and not the other way around.”

Laurens shifted off him. “Sorry.” He kissed Hamilton’s lips. He took a deep breath. “I feel better now. I had to see you.”

“I was more than happy to comply.” He slipped off the bed and closed the door.

Down the hall and in the kitchen, Washington’s keen ears for closing doors picked up the sound and he shook his head. “I’ll take that coffee after all,” he told Shae.

She got out two mugs and filled them. 

“How are the kids doing?” Washington asked.

Shae joined him at the table. “Therapy is helping but it’s slow going. Coby is starting to understand and he likes his new school. Isabelle is still angry with her dad and misses her mom. She and John have gotten into a few screaming matches as she considers John to have abandoned the family. She hasn’t been able to grasp the abuse John suffered.”

Washington nodded. “Have you heard anything from Henry or Erik?”

“Not really.” She watched her drink. “I feel bad that no one can help Erik.”

“I know it hurts to let people go.” Washington patted her hand. “But the other kids won’t heal if Erik is in their lives. He’s resilient and if he wants to get away, he will. How is your boyfriend handling this? He must be amazing.”

She smiled. “He is and he thinks the children are a joy even when they’re screaming at each other.”

“Good man. I don’t think I’ve met him.”

“You have. Richard Meade?”

A smile softened Washington’s face. “Ah, indeed.”

“He wasn’t sure if you would remember him.”

“I never forget one of my boys. He was thirteen when he came to Mount Vernon. One of the first after we decided to foster older boys instead of babies. He was with us for about six weeks. I’m glad to know he turned out amazing.”

“He says those six weeks really put him on the right course,” Shae said as she stirred her coffee. “He would have stayed an angry teen who hated everyone if you hadn’t shown him what a loving family was and listened to him.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Once things have settled down with the kids, he wants us to foster.” She smiled. 

“It sounds like you guys will be amazing at it.”

“Thank you.”

***

In between the kisses he trailed down Hamilton’s bare chest, Laurens said, “I have to get ready for work soon but I’m on vacation in a few days. I took off the time around Laf’s wedding.”

“What time do you get off work?” Hamilton asked. He rubbed his feet against his boyfriend’s legs.

“Ten.” Laurens pushed up and held himself over Hamilton. “I don’t imagine your parents would appreciate me coming over that late and waking the dogs.”

“Probably not.” Hamilton met his lips in a long kiss. “Dad is probably ready to go.”

Laurens rolled off and found their clothes. “He was probably ready a half hour ago. He puts up with a lot.”

Hamilton pulled on his shirt. “I have no self-respect and he’s too chill so it’s all good.”

Laurens rolled his eyes.

When he heard the bedroom door open, Washington finished his second cup of coffee and stood. “Ready, Alexander?” he called out.

Hamilton appeared in the kitchen. “Yeah, sorry.”

Washington patted his head. “Where’s your hat?”

Laurens pulled the orange knit hat over his boyfriend’s head. “I was trying to steal it.” He kissed Hamilton’s lips.

“Mom can make you one,” Hamilton replied. He squeezed Laurens’ hand and leaned against him.

“I hate to pull you boys apart,” Washington said, “but we do need to go Alex, and John has work.”

Hamilton dragged himself away and put on his coat. “You’re helping set up for the wedding, right?”

“Yup,” Laurens said. “I’ll be over Friday.”

Washington patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you. We have a lot of stuff to move around.” He steered his son toward the door. “Thank you for the coffee,” he called back to Shae. “Tell Richard I said hello.”

“Another former foster boy?” Hamilton asked as he got in the Cadillac.

“Yes, one of our first.” Washington backed out of the driveway. “Loved to ask questions and was rather annoying. I’m glad he turned out okay.”

“Do you think I’ll turn out okay?” Hamilton watched his dad, fighting to keep a smirk off his face.

“No,” Washington said in a flat voice, eyes on the road. “Your foster parents did a horrible job on you.”

“Right?” He couldn’t keep the smile away.

Washington chuckled. “You’re a decent kid. I’m very proud of you.”

“I’m proud of me, too.”

Washington reached over and squeezed his hand. “Good.”


	79. Chapter 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't go shopping on Valentine's Day.

On Friday, the day before his wedding, Lafayette arrived at Mount Vernon first thing in the morning.

“You don’t look ready to work,” he chided his brother as Hamilton sat at the kitchen table in his pajamas eating cereal.

“It’s six-thirty,” Hamilton reasoned. “Be glad I’m even up.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“Sleeping.”

“He better not be.” Lafayette headed for the stairs.

“He’s in his office,” Hamilton called after him. “He’s been moving stuff around to fit the front room furniture.” He yawned and finished his breakfast. He heard the dogs running down the upstairs hallway and waited long enough to greet them before he joined his dad and brother as they left the office.

“What time is Laurens getting here?” Lafayette asked. “We’ll need his help with the heavy stuff.” He surveyed the front room. The love seat and a tall bookcase were solid wood, heavier than what Washington was allowed to lift. The armchairs, coffee table, and end tables would be manageable. The glass case filled with Mrs. Washington’s wedding china could stay where it was.

“I can help,” Hamilton said. “I’m strong.” Although, he couldn’t remember the last time he lifted anything heavier than a textbook.

Lafayette gripped his brother’s bicep. “Are you sure about that, little lion?” He patted Hamilton on the head and he and Washington got to work with the lighter furniture.

“I can help,” he insisted.

“Move the books off the shelf then,” Washington said as he grabbed one end of the coffee table.

The bookshelf was over six-feet tall and filled with old books. Mostly used for decoration now, but they had been in Washington’s family for generations. Hamilton removed them carefully as some were rather worn.

“John’s here,” Lafayette announced as he saw Laurens’ car pull into the driveway.

He soon let himself in and found Hamilton’s arms around him. “Missed you, too,” he murmured before his lips were too busy kissing.

Lafayette clapped his hands loudly. “Stop. Don’t make me get a squirt bottle. We have work to do.”

Hamilton pulled away and returned to the bookshelf. Lafayette and Laurens grabbed opposite ends of the love seat. Beneath it, Potato’s hiding place for her bone collection was discovered. She knew it, too, and ran in yipping at Lafayette’s ankles before she stuffed three bones in her tiny mouth and ran off.

“That dog is something,” Laurens commented as she ran past him in the hallway. He stepped down into the front room and watched his boyfriend as he stood on his tiptoes to reach the books on the top shelf. The opportunity was too great to pass up and as soon as Hamilton’s hands were full, Laurens yanked down his boyfriend’s pants.

“John!” Hamilton dropped a book on his own head. More books clattered to the floor until his hands were empty and he could pull up his pants.

“Sorry,” Laurens said with a smirk.

“No, you’re not.” He tugged at the laces on Laurens’ pullover sweater hoodie.

Lafayette’s irritated groan filled the room. “I need a squirt bottle, seriously.”

Hamilton drew back from his boyfriend and stared down his brother. “You’re the one who is having a whole ceremony to show off your PDA.”

“Yeah, tomorrow, so we need to focus today.” Lafayette nudged his brother aside. “John, help me with the bookcase as soon as Alex picks his mess off the floor.”

Fuming, Hamilton grabbed the books and got out of the way. He pouted in the kitchen until the room was cleared out and the men came through to get stuff out of the garage.

“If you’re not going to help,” Lafayette said, “go pick up the suits.”

“Fine,” Hamilton grumbled. “Where at?”

Lafayette gave him the address.

“That’s way across town!” he griped. “Why couldn’t you have stopped before you came over?”

“Wasn’t open yet.” Lafayette left the room.

“Dad!”

Washington rubbed his forehead. “Just go pick up the suits, Alex.”

Cussing and grouching to himself, Hamilton changed and left the house.

By the time he returned, the arch was set up in the front room along with a dozen white folding chairs. Most guests would have to stand but it would be a small wedding with only immediate family and a few close friends.

“Put the suits in Dad’s office,” Lafayette instructed. “We need to borrow your truck to pick up tables and more chairs.”

“Fine.” Hamilton threw the keys at him. He stared at the white arch woven with vines, flowers, and hearts.

Laurens wrapped his arms around him. “Ours should be half black to match your grumpy mood.”

His heartrate spiked and he turned in his boyfriend’s arms. “Ours?”

“Yeah. Someday.” Laurens met his softened gaze.

“I never heard you talk about commitment before.” Hamilton rested his head against Laurens’ chest. “I like where this is going.”

“You mean the world to me, Alexander.” He stroked his boyfriend’s cheek. “I know I couldn’t live without you.”

Hamilton lifted up his head and kissed him. He couldn’t live without Laurens either and probably would have been dead if not for him.

“John, I need your help!” Lafayette shouted. “I thought you were right behind me?”

Laurens sighed. “We just have to grab tables from the country club. I’ll be back in, like, a half hour.”

Hamilton nodded and slowly let Laurens go.

The tables and chairs would go in the garage where there was plenty of room for the food to be set out and guests to eat and later dance. Hamilton and Washington began the cleaning process while they waited for the other two to return. Thanks to Washington’s careful attention to his Cadillac, the garage was always in tidy shape and needed little work other than moving stuff out to the shed or in the old van, now parked out of the way in the yard.

Washington paused as he received a text. “My brother will be here soon,” he said. “Says he’s about a half hour out. Go tell Mom so she knows they’ll be here for lunch.”

“Uncle August?” Hamilton questioned as he leaned on a broom.

“Yes. Him, his wife, and the four younger girls.” Washington pulled the broom away. “The older two girls couldn’t get away from college. Go tell Mom.”

“Everyone’s grumpy,” Hamilton grumbled and went inside.

Mrs. Washington was in the kitchen, lunch preparations underway. She sighed when Hamilton relayed the news. “Adrienne and her parents will be here for lunch, too.” She counted croissants and studied the large bowl of chicken salad. “Some will have to have regular sandwiches,” she decided and checked the fridge. “Or perhaps not.” She pulled out an almost empty container of ham.

“I can run to the store as soon as Laf gets back with my truck,” Hamilton said.

“Thank you, dear.” She began a list. “Take the Cadillac, though. I don’t want to make anyone wait for lunch.”

He could have argued that no one was going to complain if they had to wait an extra fifteen minutes for their free meal but he knew his mom was going to stress no matter what and he would do whatever he could to relieve some of it. He took the list and told his dad.

“Be careful,” Washington said as he handed over the keys.

“I will.”

The car was parked outside and Hamilton fell into the seat as he got in. His feet were nowhere near the pedals and he couldn’t see over the steering wheel. Grumbling, he struggled to find the levers to adjust the seat. Five minutes later, he pulled out the front gate.

It would be a quick trip, in and out of the store. Hamilton folded the list of the handle of the shopping cart and searched out the bakery.

“Alex?”

He almost ran the cart into a display of flowers. _Shit_. “Hi, Eliza,” he mumbled. “Been a while.”

“Yeah.” She held a plastic container of cupcakes. “Your brother is getting married tomorrow, isn’t he?’

Hamilton rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.” When _was_ the last time he’d spoken to Eliza? Junior year of college after he’d broken her heart? He was impressed with how long he’d been able to avoid her. “We have family coming over for lunch today. I have to get this stuff for Mom.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to keep you.” She touched his arm. “Take care, Alex.”

“Um, yeah, you, too.” Hamilton turned the cart blindly and knocked a bunch of cards to the floor. Today was Valentine’s Day. “Shit.” He looked through the cards as he picked them up and hoped one would work for Laurens. None did and now his heart pounded and he had to find something and get the stuff for Mrs. Washington and get back as soon as he could.

“Stop panicking,” he hissed at himself. _Get the stuff on the list._

He found croissant, sandwich rolls, and grabbed several different desserts. Deli meat and cheese were easy to find, too. But he’d already been in the store fifteen minutes thanks to Eliza’s interruption. For whom was she buying cupcakes? It hadn’t crossed his mind until he realized what the day was. Good for her if she had a boyfriend, he thought, yet he couldn’t quite push her out of his mind. Especially not once he turned down the Valentine aisle and saw her picking out a card. _Just go home_ , he told himself. Laurens probably wasn’t expecting anything anyway. But he was already committed to the aisle and turning the cart around would be obvious.

Face growing hot, he searched through the cards for an appropriate one convinced Eliza was watching him.

“Aaron or John?”

Hamilton dropped the card and struggled to find his breath. “John,” he wheezed.

“Good for you.” She walked past him.

He noticed she hadn’t found a card. _Doesn’t matter. Focus._ His fingers trembled as he struggled to get the card off the floor. It wouldn’t work for Laurens and he knew if he stayed in the store any longer, he’d have a full blown panic attack.

Thankful for self-checkout, he scanned everything, bagged it, paid, and hasted out the door and to the Cadillac which someone had shoved their cart into and dinged the door.

“Oh, come on!” Hamilton half-shouted. He piled the bags into the backseat, almost in tears, a queasy knot in his stomach. He drove home, sweating, then shivering from his damp shirt.

“What took so long?” Mrs. Washington chided as he set the bags on the kitchen table.

Hamilton ran up to his room.

“Alex!”

Washington appeared at once. “What happened?”

She shook her head.

Washington headed upstairs and opened Hamilton’s door. “Alexander?”

“Leave me alone,” said Hamilton in a muffled voice hidden from view.

“What happened?” Washington repeated as he tried to figure out where his son was hiding.

Hamilton dug his nail into his arm. “Anxiety.” He rubbed at his skin. The closest door opened and he glanced up guiltily at his dad. “Car got scratched.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Washington knelt down and stopped his son from hurting himself further. “I know everything is crazy right now. You can stay up here during lunch if you want.”

Tears built in his eyes and spilled free. “I couldn’t find a card for John.”

“John will understand, love.” Washington pulled Hamilton toward him. “Deep breathes.”

Downstairs, Lafayette shouted for his dad. “We need to get this stuff unloaded.”

Washington sighed. He kissed Hamilton’s head. “You have my permission to elope.” His words got a faint smile out of his son and he let go. “Stay up here as long as you need.”

Once the tables and chairs were unloaded into the garage, Washington sent Laurens upstairs to check on Hamilton. He found his boyfriend on the floor playing with his dragon collection. “How’re you feeling, babe?”

“Not as panicky,” Hamilton said. He glanced up. “I didn’t get you anything for Valentine’s Day.”

“Is that today? Shit.” Laurens sat next to him on the floor. “I didn’t get you anything either.” He picked up one of the dragons. “I’m off work Monday and I don’t work until late on Tuesday. Maybe we can go somewhere?”

“I’d like that.” Hamilton pointed at the green dragon in Laurens’ hand. “That’s Aisling.”

“Do I ever get to read your dragon novel?” Laurens asked.

“Maybe.” He paused, listening, as he heard car doors slam. “Sounds like company is here.” He took a deep breath.

“We can stay upstairs,” Laurens said.

“I’m okay.” He got up and took Laurens’ hand. “As long as you’re with me.”

“Forever.” Laurens squeezed his hand.


	80. Chapter 80

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother Washington

Downstairs was a commotion of voices as August Washington, his wife Hannah, and four of their daughters—Marley, Jo, Georgia, and Austin—came inside.

“It’s been too long, George!” August said in a voice that boomed in contrast to his older brother’s much softer tone. He was as tall as his brother was, though.

Washington hugged him. “Indeed. You remember the boys?” He gestured to Hamilton by the stairs and Lafayette near the kitchen.

“Not the freckled on,” August said indicating at Laurens. “Where’s the redhead?”

“John is Alexander’s boyfriend,” Washington said and pulled his son toward him. “Alexander shaved his head to support his friend with cancer.”

“Good man,” August said and patted Hamilton on the shoulder. “He’s so tiny, George.”

Hamilton grumbled in his throat. As Lafayette joined them, he felt even smaller and tried to duck away under his dad’s arm.

Instead, Lafayette caught him and hoisted him around the middle despite his protests. “He’s cute, though. You should put on your lion suit, Alex.”

Hamilton slumped in Lafayette’s arms. “Put me down.”

“No.”

“Lafayette, put him down.” Washington moved away to greet his nieces as his wife and Hannah chatted.

Greetings were hardly finished before another car pulled into the driveway. Adrienne and her parents joined the commotion. The dogs were upstairs in the master bedroom to avoid any unwanted bites but their voices carried down as they complained about the intruders from who they were unable to protect their family.

Lafayette was quick to discard Hamilton in favor of kissing his fiancée and Hamilton hurried over to Laurens. “We should have stayed upstairs.”

As more introductions were made, an uninvited guest slipped inside and made her presence immediately known.

“With all the money you have, I’m astonished you haven’t bought a bigger house or some decent furniture.” 

Washington closed his eyes, an instant headache piercing his cranium. He had hoped so much this wouldn’t happen. “Mother.”

Hamilton’s eyes widened as he stared at the old woman. She was tall and walked with a cane, her back slightly bent, her wrinkled, arthritic hands twisted into claws. She had none of the warmth in her face that Washington had, no softness in her cold, beady eyes. Her voice had an unsettling rasp to it of a long-term smoker.

“George.” Mother Washington glared at her son and ignored her fleeing granddaughters and daughters-in-law. She poked her son with her cane. “You didn’t respond to my letter.”

“Been busy.” The words slipped out through barely parted lips. Washington glanced at his brother, who wore an uneasy smile as he rubbed his chin, and at his wide-eyed boys.

A hacking snort escaped Mother Washington. “Doubtful.” She looked at her younger son. “Hello, dear. I’m surprised you found this wretched place.”

August could only continue the painful smile and glanced toward the kitchen where his family had made their escape.

With careful steps, Lafayette inched his way toward the stairs and stood in front of Hamilton to shield him from Mary Ball Washington’s evil eyes. 

“Get out,” Washington commanded his mother. 

“Where are your manners, George?” Mother Washington poked at him again. “I did not raise you like that.”

Washington’s lips parted but he reined back the snap that she hadn’t raised him at all. “Leave.”

Mother Washington ignored him and her roving eyes fell on Lafayette. “Of course, there’s that French fuck you consider a son.”

“Oui, mademoiselle,” Lafayette said in an exaggerated French accent. “Comment vas-tu? Va te faire fourte. Casse toi.”

From behind him, Hamilton whispered, “Good one.”

Mother Washington turned back to her son with a snarl. “Why do you do this to me? A grandchild, George, it’s all I ever wanted from you. Why didn’t you divorce that Marta woman after you knew she couldn’t give me a grandchild?”

“I’m the one who is sterile, Mother,” Washington snapped. “Leave.”

Movement drew her attention back to Lafayette and she frowned. “What is he hiding?”

Washington cussed under his breath to realize Hamilton wasn’t safe in the kitchen. 

Hamilton peeked around Lafayette and Mother Washington shrieked.

“What is that?”

“Oh, my God!” Hamilton yelled even louder. “Calm down, I’m the grandchild you’re so desperate for and thank the God Almighty I’ve never had the pleasure to meet you before.”

“Oh, shit,” muttered Lafayette.

Mother Washington launched herself at Washington. “What is that thing talking about?”

Jaw clenched tight, Washington said through his teeth, “Alexander is mine and _Martha’s_ adopted son.” He enunciated his wife’s name, although after thirty-three years there was little reason to expect his mother to stop calling her Marta.

“No.” She jabbed a wizened finger at Washington’s chest. “Why would you do that? It’s bad enough that you allowed strange children to live in your house but to adopt one of the bastards? That thing has no right to the family and heaven forbid you give him a penny of your money.”

“That thing?” Washington exploded. “ _Thing_? Why do you think we all hate you? Alexander is my son. You’re right, he’s not getting a penny, he’s getting the house and as much money as I can possibly give him.”

“Fine! Give him Lawrence’s money,” she screamed. “He was just as worthless.”

“And lucky as hell that he died and doesn’t have to deal with your shit anymore but unlucky that he had you as a step-mother.” His words rose as anger got the better of him.

“Ungrateful!” Her voice soared to the rafters and made the dogs howl in terror. “All of you are ungrateful.”

“You never gave us anything to be grateful for.” Washington glowered at her, just stopping himself from shouting. “I’ve made a life that I’m proud of and you hating every second of it only makes me love it more. Get. Out.”

“I will not take orders from you, George.” She pressed her cane into his stomach. “Look at yourself, bald and fat. You’re a disgrace. You can’t take care of yourself; I don’t know why I had expected you ever to care for your own mother. And now—” She looked at Hamilton again and recoiled. “—you’re giving all your money to that thing. He doesn’t have hair. How many diseases does the bastard have? I tell you, George, those childr—”

“Fuck off!” Washington shouted. “I will not listen to you speak ill of my child. Get the fuck out of here or so help me God I will shove your ass down those stairs.” His chest heaved and a vein throbbed across his forehead.

“Speak to me again like that, George,” Mother Washington said in a low tone, a growl coloring each word, “and I will find a way to leave you desolate. You’ve never done anything to warrant your wealth.”

“He told you to fuck off!” Hamilton yelled as he pushed around Lafayette. “You have no idea what your son has accomplished. He is the best man and best dad in this world.”

“You insolent—” She slapped Hamilton across the cheek.

A growl rose from Washington and he pushed his mother back. “Touch him again and you will rot in jail,” he snarled. Anger burned in his eyes and coupled with his height and bulk made for a fearful sight and this time Mother Washington backed down.

“I stand by what I said,” she snapped at him as she turned for the door. “You won’t keep your wealth.”

Washington slammed the door and let himself sink down against it. “Alex?”

“I’m fine.” Hamilton’s voice shook and he was quick to tuck himself in Washington’s lap.

“Holy shit,” Laurens said half in awe, half in terror. “And I thought my family was volatile.”

“That’s not the last we’ll see of her,” August fretted. “George, she’s out for blood.”

“I’m aware.” He cuddled Hamilton tight to him, not sure if it was himself or Hamilton who trembled. “That woman—” He shook his head, muscles tensing.

“Dad.” Lafayette knelt next to him and wrapped an arm around his brother. “Could she take your money?”

“No.” Washington stroked his cheek. “Neither of your needs to worry about her, I promise.” He looked up and saw his wife standing in the kitchen doorway, hugging herself. He thanked God she had stayed safe out of sight. “She’s gone, dear,” he said.

Mrs. Washington joined them on the floor. “She hasn’t changed a bit.” She kissed both of their boys. “What a…”

“You can say it, Mom,” Lafayette said.

She gave a strained smile. “I won’t sink to her level.” She patted Lafayette’s cheek. “Let’s have lunch and forget about this.”

Lafayette stood first and helped up his mom. He picked up Hamilton and handed him over to Laurens, and offered his dad a hand.

Washington shook his head. “I don’t think I could stand yet.”

“George…” Mrs. Washington questioned.

“Not a heart attack, dear,” he assured her. “Just a bit rattled.”

Mrs. Washington and Lafayette joined the rest of their guests, half-surprised to find Adrienne’s family since their arrival had been lost in the angry commotion and forgotten. They sat quietly in the family room with August’s daughters. Lafayette hurried to his fiancée to assure her she was not marrying into a crazy clan.

Hamilton and Laurens sat on the stairs to remain near Washington.

“Thank goodness she didn’t find out you were my boyfriend,” Hamilton commented. “I can’t imagine my dear grandmother is very liberal.”

“Bingo,” Washington muttered. “I’m sorry, Alexander.”

Hamilton shrugged. “Not all of us get to choose our family.”

In the kitchen, Mrs. Washington and Hannah set out lunch and tried to make Adrienne’s family feel comfortable after witnessing Mother Washington’s intrusion. Washington and the other boys soon joined them and everyone went out to the garage where the tables had been set up for the wedding reception. A few space heaters took off the chill but it would be plenty warm when all the guests were packed in the following day.

Adrienne’s parents didn’t stick around long after eating. They were polite, said the food was great and the wedding setup looked lovely but they seemed apprehensive and drove off quickly. Adrienne remained behind to help with the finishing touches.

“Are you worried now?” Lafayette asked her as they observed the half set-up garage alone.

Adrienne patted her fiancé’s arm. “No. You can’t control crazy relatives and every family has one or several. My parents were a bit unnerved but they’ll get over it. Let me see the decorations your brother made.”

Lafayette found the box of centerpieces Hamilton had been making to keep his mind busy.

“These are perfect!” She emptied the box of decorated miniature flowerpots. Each had several fake flowers in it.

“Yeah, but he put dragons on some of them.” He pointed to the red dragon Hamilton had drawn using a stencil on one of the pots.

“So?” She began putting the pots on each table. “Only flowers and hearts would have been boring.”

“As long as you’re happy.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled a foot across the floor. 

Adrienne set the last decoration down and turned to face him. “Why are you always so hard on Alex? You always tell me you didn’t want the Washington’s to adopt you, yet you always seem threatened or something because they did adopt Alex. You could still ask them to adopt you, Laffy. They’d agree in a heartbeat.”

Lafayette shook his head. “Alex is so needy and I’ve always had a hard time understanding him. He’s a lot of work and it’s exhausting.”

“He’s a good friend, though. Look what he did to support Tench.”

A scowl flashed across Lafayette’s face.

“What?” Adrienne raised an eyebrow.

“He’s going to ruin all the wedding pictures with his buzzed head. It’ll be an improvement once it grows from the long hair that was always in his face but—”

“Lafayette, he looks fine.” Adrienne rubbed her fingers against the back of his hand. “I’m proud to have him in our wedding. Please, stop criticizing him.”

Lafayette sighed. “Sorry.”

“Let’s get your cousins to help with the curtains and name cards.”

While they and August’s daughters worked in the garage, the brothers locked themselves away to discuss their mother. After doing the dishes, the women, Hamilton, and Laurens relaxed in the family room and drank tea.

“Any chance, Martha,” Hannah asked, “that you have some special spice to put in this tea?”

“We definitely need it, don’t we?” Mrs. Washington agreed. She took their cups in the kitchen.

Hamilton followed her. “What special spice? Brandy?”

“Don’t tell Dad.” Mrs. Washington handed him the bottle.

“Like he and Uncle August aren’t getting wasted in his office,” Hamilton said. He returned to the family room and added brandy to his and Laurens’ cups.

“Now it’s drinkable,” Laurens said with a grin. He pulled his boyfriend onto his lap.

“Did you and Dad have a big wedding?” Hamilton asked as he sipped his tea and rubbed Laurens’ knee.

“No, we had to keep it small to avoid his mother,” Mrs. Washington said. She added more brandy to her cup. “My parents were there and other family we enjoyed and some friends. We had it at a little chapel upstate. It was relaxing and a good time.” A gentle smile touched her face as she remembered all the flowers and how handsome her husband had looked. He’s been so nervous and she’d worried he’d have trouble getting out his vows but with his eyes on her, he’d found all the courage he needed.

“That sounds nice,” Hamilton said. He turned his head to look at Laurens.

“What?” Laurens asked softly.

“You know what.”

Laurens squeezed him tighter. “Yeah, and that does sound very nice.”

Eventually, the house was as set-up and clean as it could get. August took his family back to the local hotel and Lafayette and Adrienne headed home.

“Bright and early,” Lafayette reminded his family as he stood near the front door. “Six in the morning.”

“Seven,” Washington said and opened the door. He nudged his son out. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early,” Lafayette shouted as the door closed. 

Washington rubbed his forehead. “I’m calling it a night.” He kissed his wife. “I’ll send the pack down.”

A minute later, the little dogs raced down the stairs barking. Mrs. Washington tended to them and gave them bits of chicken with their dinner.

Laurens stretched out on the couch and rested his feet in Hamilton’s lap. “It is Valentine’s Day; do you want to do anything?”

Hamilton stopped a yawn. “Watch a movie?”

“Sure.” He reached for the remote but let Hamilton pick the movie.

An hour later, Mrs. Washington came through the family room to let out the dogs. “Don’t stay up too late,” she reminded the boys. “Lafayette will probably be here at six.”

“Alex is already half asleep,” Laurens said. “We’ll be up on time.”

Hamilton yawned. “You don’t think Mother Washington will show up tomorrow do you, Mom?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Washington said. She opened the back door and five dogs ran past her. “I hope not. Goodnight, boys.” She followed the pack.

Hamilton stretched out across Laurens on the couch. “How many times have we made out right here?”

“Not enough.” Laurens kissed him.


	81. Chapter 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding - part 1

Lafayette let himself in a few minutes after six the next morning. Adrienne and Mulligan had refused to go with him that early but promised they wouldn’t be long behind him. He headed for the kitchen to make coffee and found that Laurens, in short, pink boxer briefs, had beat him to it.

“Um, hi,” Laurens mumbled, eyes flashing toward the open door to the family room.

“What?” Lafayette questioned.

He moved toward the door. “Um, don’t come in here.”

Lafayette gave a long, irritated sigh. “That room better be clean, John.”

“Of course.” Laurens shut the door behind him. He studied the scattered clothes, the furniture moved from its usual places. But nothing was broken and they’d left the door open for twenty minutes around midnight to cool off and air it out. “Hammy.” He shook his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Get up.”

Hamilton lifted his head and tipped off the couch. “Ugh.”

“Come on, we didn’t even drink,” Laurens said. “Get up.”

“Nor did we sleep,” Hamilton reminded him. “Where’re my clothes?”

Laurens threw a t-shirt at him.

“That’s... that’s not really helpful.” Hamilton looked at the tag. “It’s also yours.”

“Yeah, well I don’t know what you did with your clothes.” He paused and listened to voices in the kitchen. He lowered his own voice. “And we need to put the furniture back in order.”

Hamilton slipped on the t-shirt, barely covered. He helped Laurens push the recliner and couch back into place and adjust the end tables. He found his socks but nothing else of his own. “I’m a little concerned.”

“Check the couch cushions,” Laurens suggested as he pulled off the blankets. His brow creased as he heard the dogs running down the stairs.

Hamilton did so with no luck and didn’t have a chance to search anywhere else as the clicking of nails and barks of the dogs grew louder.

The family room door opened and the dogs raced to the back door, Washington behind them. He stopped in surprise and shook his head. “I’m not going to ask.” He let out the dogs.

“Good idea,” Hamilton said. 

Washington grabbed something off the ground in the snow near the back door. “Yours?” He held out Hamilton’s jeans, hoodie, and long-sleeve shirt.

“Um...” Hamilton took the frozen clothes. “Thanks.” He glanced at Laurens who looked as bewildered about how the clothes had ended up outside.

“Go shower,” Washington said.

Laurens went first but the kitchen was empty. However, Lafayette stopped them on the stairs. “Seriously, Alexander?”

“Don’t, Lafayette,” Laurens said as he saw Hamilton using one bare leg to try to cover the other. “Go, Alex.”

Hamilton darted up the rest of the stairs. 

Laurens glared at Lafayette.

“Sorry,” Lafayette said. “I forgot about his legs.

“Try not to tease him so much today,” pleaded Laurens. “We’re all stressed.”

“I’ll try not to,” Lafayette said. “But sometimes he makes it too easy.”

Laurens sighed and followed after his boyfriend.

After breakfast, last minute things were attended to and food preparations began. Most of the food was being catered in but some of the side dishes and appetizers Mrs. Washington had to make. But when August and his family arrived, the work went fast. 

“What does Potato have?” Hannah asked as she cut up fruit. 

Mrs. Washington looked over at the fat dog shaking a pair of boxers. “Alexander,” she called out to the garage. “Potato has something for you.” 

Hamilton came into the kitchen and cussed. “Potato!”

She ran off with the boxers, Hamilton chasing her.

Her usual hiding places in the front room had all been moved and she dropped the treasure in defeat.

Hamilton snatched up his underwear. “Thank you for finding them, I suppose.” He patted the dog’s head and headed for the laundry room to toss the boxers in the hamper.

After an early, light lunch, everyone dispersed to begin getting ready. Adrienne’s bridesmaids arrived and they, Adrienne, and her mother took over the sewing room while the groomsmen had the crowded office. 

“Nervous?” Mulligan asked as he watched Lafayette fighting with his hair.

“No.” The comb flew out of his hand. 

Mulligan picked it up. “Sit.” He combed out Lafayette’s hair, smoothed in gel to keep it tidy and pulled it back with a velvet ribbon.

Laurens observed Mulligan. “All those mornings before debates you spent watching me do my hair paid off, didn’t they?”

Mulligan rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Alex, you’re being quiet,” Lafayette said. He glanced around the room. “Where is Alex anyway?”

“Alexander?” Laurens called out. 

A moment later, Hamilton came out around the bookcase he’d been changing behind. He wore sweatpants and held his dress pants in his hands. “These don’t fit.”

“Wear a belt,” Lafayette said. “Or Mom can probably use safety pins to make adjustments.”

“They’re too small,” Hamilton said, eyes blinking rapidly.

Lafayette sighed. “Put them on and let me see.”

“They’ll rip.”

“Put them on.”

Hamilton returned behind the bookcase. He shuffled into sight a few minutes later. The pants were about an inch too short and tight from the hips up.

“Just be careful how you move,” Lafayette said. “Take off your boxers. You have a panty line. At least you have a small dick.”

“Lafayette!” Laurens rebuked. “Stop taking your stress out on your brother.”

Hamilton’s jaw bulged. “I’m not going commando in a rented suit, Laf.”

Lafayette fiddled with the ribbon in his hair and turned away. “I doubt you’ll get an STD from the pants that you haven’t already gotten.”

A quick reaction from Laurens stopped Hamilton from launching himself at his brother. “Stop, both of you,” Laurens scolded. “Let’s ask your mom if she has any suggestions.”

“I’ve never had an STD,” Hamilton snapped.

A twisted grin stretched Lafayette’s lip. “Impressive.”

Mulligan smacked Lafayette’s arm. “Stop it. Go sit in the corner.”

He hit his friend back. “Fuck you.”

Laurens steered Hamilton out of the room and closed the door.

Out of sight around the corner, the hum of arriving guests filled the house. A reminder of how little time they had left to get organized.

“I’m not going to be able to walk upstairs in these,” Hamilton said as he tugged at the crotch digging into him.

“I’ll get Mom then,” Laurens said. “Wait in the powder room.” He ran upstairs and down the hall. Several dogs barked before he even knocked on the master bedroom door.

“Yes?” Washington asked from behind the closed door.

“Problem,” Laurens said. “We need Mom’s expertise.”

“Just a minute.”

Laurens waited in the hall for a few minutes until Washington opened the door.

He and Mrs. Washington were finishing getting ready. Washington wore a black tuxedo and Mrs. Washington a coral gown.

“What’s the problem, dear?” Mrs. Washington asked. She handed a pearl necklace to her husband to secure around her neck.

“Alexander’s pants are too small and Lafayette is being a jerk.” Laurens stopped Potomac from jumping up on his leg.

She glanced at her husband. “Alex has other black pants, doesn’t he?”

“Probably not with stripes.” Laurens pointed to the velvet ribbon up the outside seams of his own pants.

“Let me see if I can do anything,” Mrs. Washington said. “As far as Lafayette, he’ll calm down in a few hours.”

Downstairs, they crowded into the small bathroom and Mrs. Washington checked Hamilton over. “The hem is just basted so I can undo that and lengthen it,” she said mostly to herself since the boys were clueless to sewing. “I can’t fix anything else, though.”

Hamilton sighed. 

“It’ll only be for about an hour,” Mrs. Washington consoled. “Just move carefully.”

“Laf doesn’t want him to wear underwear,” Laurens said. “You can see the hem of his boxers.”

“Do you have any briefs?” she asked.

Hamilton shook his head.

“It’ll be fine,” she decided. “Take off the pants and I’ll fix the hem.” She left the powder room and closed the door.

Lafayette waited in the hallway. “Well?”

“Be nice to your brother,” she chided. “He’ll look fine.” She soon had the dress pants and made quick work of snipping the threads and letting the hem out as far as it would go.

Once she finished and he’d re-dressed, Hamilton returned to the office for Lafayette’s approval. 

Lafayette just sighed. “I guess.”

“We only have five minutes,” Mulligan said. “Alexander, you look very handsome.”

Hamilton gave a curt nod. 

Laurens squeezed his hand. “I know you’re anxious,” he said softly. “I won’t leave your side, I promise.”

“Let’s go,” Lafayette said and opened the office door. 

Washington waited for them, looking sharp and proud. He checked them over, fixing a tie, brushing off a bit of lint. He stopped Hamilton. “You’re pale. Do you feel okay?”

Hamilton nodded, eyes staring past his dad, not seeing Laurens either hovering nearby. He followed Washington around the corner, the drone of people growing louder. He froze at the sight of the full front room, guests sitting and standing, everyone talking and laughing. He snagged Laurens’ jacket. “I hate anxiety,” he whispered in a choked voice. 

“I’m right here.” Laurens stroked his cheek.

Hamilton closed his eyes but that made everything worse. The sounds grew louder and images flooded his brain. His biological father had shot him at Madison’s graduation party. Who was to say his adopted grandmother wouldn’t shoot him at Lafayette’s wedding?

He could see that witchy old lady in his head, cane raised. What if she shot Washington? A groan of terror slipped through Hamilton’s throat and he dug his nails into the palms of his hands.

The vision was too clear. The cane raised, her raspy voice tearing into them verbally. One click and it would all be over.

Everything would be over.


	82. Chapter 82

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding - part 2

“Nononono,” Hamilton mumbled and pressed his head against the wall. The vision wasn’t real. Mother Washington wouldn’t show up again. He or Washington wouldn’t die today.

“Alex?”

Hamilton blindly pushed his boyfriend back and banged his head into the wall.

“Alexander, don’t hurt yourself.” Laurens struggled to keep from touching him. “Hey, babe, look at me. I’m right here. You’re okay.” His own voice trembled and he knew he had to get control of himself if he wanted to help Hamilton. “Alex, can you look at me?”

He pressed his head harder into the wall as the noise of wedding festivities rang through his brain and changed to shouting and gunshots. He could see Mr. Stevens standing above him, ready to blow out his brains. Could hear him ranting about what a worthless child Hamilton had been. None of it was real; his mind had long ago distorted what had gone down that spring afternoon. But he was worthless; he deserved to be shot. Let Mother Washington kill him. She hated him enough. He was everything wrong in the world in her eyes, in his own.

“Alex, Alex, please,” Laurens begged. “What can I do?” He bit into his lip. “I’ll get Dad.” Legs trembling, he hurried out of the hallway and spotted Washington near the setup of chairs and caught Lafayette’s peeved look as he tapped at his wrist. 

Laurens shook his head at the groom and interrupted Washington talking to August. “Problem.”

Washington’s shoulder dropped and he followed Laurens without a word. Just out of sight of the wedding guests, Hamilton remained pressed against the wall, his world crumbling.

“Alexander.” Washington stood sideways to shield him further from the chaos beyond them. “May I touch you?”

Hamilton nodded.

Washington wrapped his arms around him and eased him away from the wall. His forehead was bright red. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Your mom might shoot me,” he whispered. He tucked his head under Washington’s suit jacket and the darkness eased a minute amount of pain. He took a deep breath.

“She won’t.” Washington rubbed his son’s back. “Uncle August and your cousins are keeping an eye out for her. She didn’t sneak in with the other guests. She won’t show up. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“You won’t get hurt, I _will_ promise you that.” He covered Hamilton’s ears as he heard Lafayette’s complaining voice. 

“Dad, what the fuck?” Lafayette found him. He played with the cufflink on his shirt. “We need to start.”

Laurens pushed him back. “Chill. We’re working on it.”

“I don’t care if he’s—” Lafayette stopped when Laurens kneed him in the crotch.

“He’s your brother,” he growled. “Give us a damn minute.”

Washington removed his hands once Lafayette limped away. “Alexander, can you do this?”

Hamilton pulled back from his dad’s security and nodded.

“Good boy.” He tidied his son’s suit. “Go wash your face real quick.” The red mark on his forehead had sort of faded, at least.

In the powder room, Hamilton pressed a wet cloth to his eyes to cool the burning and alleviate some of the puffiness. He reminded himself that he wouldn’t have to talk or make eye contact with anyone. Laurens would be by his side. It wouldn’t be long. Deep breathes. He could do this. If only his pants were giving him such a painful wedgie!

He joined Laurens and everyone else was soon lined up. Once the flower girl and ring bearer—who were cousins of Adrienne’s—were untangled from hitting each other, the wedding began. 

The Washington’s walked first, their height difference never comical, the couple too in love to be anything but the perfect match. Mrs. Washington’s coral gown shimmered in the sunlight from the front window. Washington’s tall, strong frame moved with an easy grace as he held his wife’s arm.

Next, Lafayette escorted his almost-mother-in-law. He took his spot at the altar next to the officiant and Mulligan, who quickly fixed the groom’s cufflink.

Adrienne’s bridesmaids—also a couple like the groomsmen—took their place on the right side of the altar.

Laurens held onto Hamilton’s freezing hand as they walked up the short aisle. He whispered as they took short steps and managed to get a faint smile on his boyfriend’s face. As they stepped to the side of the altar, Lafayette nodded to them and squeezed his brother’s other hand.

“I’m sorry, little lion,” he murmured. “I’ll make this up to you. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Hamilton whispered and met his brother’s eyes.

Lafayette smiled but his attention was drawn forward as the rambunctious children followed the maid of honor and made a mess fighting for the flower basket. He sucked in a short breath at the sight of his bride in her white gown decorated with silk flowers and hearts. She wore elbow-length lace gloves and a pearl necklace. The long train swept the floor as her father walked beside her. At the end, he lifted her veil and kissed her cheek. He nodded to Lafayette and took his seat beside his wife.

The ceremony sped by until Lafayette and Adrienne were pronounced husband and wife and told to kiss. They kissed…and kissed…and kissed until the groomsmen gagged.

“Enough,” Mulligan hissed.

The couple parted, cheeks flushed and grins on their faces.

The minister announced the newlyweds. “Mr. and Mrs. du Motier.”

The room erupted into applause as the newlyweds walked down the aisle together.

“All good?” Laurens whispered as they followed behind.

“Sort of,” Hamilton said. “I’m certain my pants are about to split up the back.”

Laurens wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “At least your jacket will probably cover you.” He kissed his cheek. “Pictures and then you can change. We’ll snag some food and hide upstairs.”

“Sounds good.”

Pictures of the couple and then with their parents seemed to drag on. Hamilton leaned against Laurens and tried to push back the weak sensation filling his gut. He only had to hold it together a little longer. Then he could take a few pills and sleep.

“Let’s get a picture of the whole family,” the photographer said and motioned Hamilton in with the Washington’s and Lafayette. Hamilton stood in front of Washington, while Lafayette moved behind their mom. 

“You know you’re my favorite,” Washington whispered to Hamilton and got him to smile for several pictures.

Then it was the whole wedding party together and then just the groomsmen. 

“Take one of just Alex and John,” Lafayette instructed. He saw Hamilton’s entire body slump. “Last picture, little lion, I promise.”

“Come on.” Laurens pulled Hamilton under the arch. “Someday, right?”

Hamilton relaxed into his boyfriend. “Yeah.”

“Perfect.” The camera flashed and in the distance, a car backfired.

At once, the little color in Hamilton’s face vanished and his legs crumpled beneath him.

Laurens cussed as his boyfriend went dead weight in his arm. He kept Hamilton from hitting the floor and knelt next to him as the panicked flutter of voices rose above him.

“Give him some space,” Lafayette said parting the crowd. “Did he faint?”

Laurens nodded, fingers against Hamilton’s right wrist as he checked the pulse. 

Washington stepped in and lifted his son off the floor. “He can rest upstairs.”

Halfway up the stairs, Hamilton came to and every muscle in his body tensed.

“You’re safe,” Washington assured him. “You just fainted, no one hurt you.” The stiff body in his arms relaxed. “You can sleep now, okay?” 

Ahead of them, Laurens opened the door to Hamilton’s room.

Washington set him on the bed. “Rest.” He kissed his son’s head. “I’m proud of you.” 

He left and Laurens closed the door. He helped his boyfriend change and managed not to rip the pants. Hamilton burrowed under his blankets, completely hidden. 

Laurens patted him over the covers. “Hammy, I’m starving and I’ll be right back.”

“Cheese,” Hamilton said from his cocoon. “All of it.”

“Got it.” He hurried downstairs and into the garage where all the guests had disappeared to during pictures and Hamilton’s fainting episode to snack and drink. 

“Where’s Alexander?”

Laurens looked up from piling a plate with cheese to see Jefferson. He had skipped the wedding ceremony since Madison was sick and couldn’t make it but figured free food was worth socializing for. 

“He fainted about ten minutes ago,” Laurens said. “He’s anxious.”

“Poor kid.” Jefferson sipped his drink. “Ask him if I can say hi later.”

Laurens agreed and finished robbing the cheese platter. He returned upstairs with two carefully balanced plates and a cup of punch. As he headed down the hallway, he saw the bathroom door closed and heat flooded through his body and he would have dropped everything in his hands to throw the door open if Hamilton hadn’t opened it himself a moment later. 

“Are you okay?” Hamilton asked seeing the panic on his boyfriend’s face. He reached for the top plate.

“I still worry about you,” Laurens mumbled.

“I just needed my rescue meds.” He went into his room and set the plate on his nightstand. 

Laurens followed and set his stuff down. He discarded his jacket, shoes, and tie and joined Hamilton on the bed. They ate in silence, catching an occasional burst of noise from downstairs. 

As their plates emptied, Laurens said, “Summer wedding. Beach house. Your parents, my aunt, and a few friends, yes?”

“Perfect.” Hamilton reached for the punch. He took a sip. “This has alcohol in it.”

Laurens took it from him. “No wonder Thomas was being greedy with it. He wants to say hi, by the way.”

“I could use a drink.”

Laurens kept the cup out of his reach. “Not with your meds, babe. I’ll get us something else. I’m surprised the punch is alcoholic considering Adrienne is...” He trailed off when he saw his boyfriend’s wide eyes. “Okay, so, I probably wasn’t supposed to know yet but Adrienne is pregnant.”

A grin slowly stretched across Hamilton’s face. “Baby Lafayette’s!” 

Laurens sighed with relief that he hadn’t created a new disaster.

“I’m going to be an uncle!” Hamilton scrambled off the bed and threw open the door.

“Alex.” Laurens ran after him. “Don’t broadcast it!”

But he didn’t need to worry as Lafayette was making the announcement himself to the guests before dinner started. “I know we haven’t gone on our honeymoon yet,” he said with a pleased smirk. “But Adrienne and I are expecting.”

Washington squeezed his wife’s hand under the table. They’d known but were excited to be able to talk about it now. 

With Laurens still behind him, Hamilton scurried across the garage in his socks and stood in front of the wedding table where he’d been supposed to sit. “Congrats, bro.”

“Thanks, little lion.” He grinned and looked at his wife. “We want you and John to think about being godparents if you think that’s acceptable.”

“Yeah.” 

Adrienne reached for Hamilton’s hand and he grasped it. “Thank you, Alexander. Are you feeling better?”

“A little.”

“Don’t overwhelm yourself, okay?”

He nodded and let go of her hand. He let Laurens steer him out and waved to Jefferson.

“I could stay,” Hamilton told Laurens.

“No, babe.” Laurens stopped in the kitchen. “How many pills did you take?”

“Two.” Hamilton shuffled his sock-clad feet against the floor.

“It’s hitting about now, isn’t it? Feel a little loopy?”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

“You need to sleep.” He guided Hamilton upstairs and tucked him in bed. He listened to his boyfriend babble and stroked his face. This wasn’t great but it was preferential to Hamilton being terrified.

Laurens got off the bed when he heard footsteps in the hall and opened the door to Jefferson.

“How is he?” Jefferson asked.

Laughter erupted from behind him. “Loopy,” Laurens said.

“Well...” Jefferson rubbed at his chin. “Want me to sit with him for a bit?”

“Thanks.” Laurens retrieved his shoes from the floor and headed downstairs. 

Jefferson sat on the bed and stretched out his legs. He tapped Hamilton’s back. “Hey, buddy.”

Hamilton rolled over, glassy-eyed and grinning. “Hi.”

“Do you want me to read to you?”

“Okay.” Hamilton reached for the book on his nightstand and managed to miss twice and then knock the book to the floor. “Whoopsy.”

“I got it.” Jefferson got off the bed and retrieved the book. Once resettled and Hamilton stopped giggling, he began where his friend had left off on the history book. As he hoped from experience with Madison, Hamilton focused on the words and his mind calmed and he dozed off.

Jefferson continued reading, silently now, until Laurens returned with two slices of cake. 

“How’s the party?” Jefferson asked and accepted his piece. 

“I’m getting old,” Laurens said. “It’s too loud and drunk.”

“Nah, you’re just a good boyfriend and want to make sure Alex is okay.” Jefferson glanced at his sleeping friend. “He did okay at the bachelor party.”

“Alcohol.” Laurens stuffed in a bite of cake. “Should have gotten him drunk last night.” He stared off at nothing at the realization his and Hamilton’s passionate, wild night hadn’t even been twenty-four hours ago. He focused his gaze on his boyfriend, saddened how quickly and effectively his anxiety could destroy him. “Do you think...?” He trailed off, as he didn’t want Jefferson to think he would abandon Hamilton. But he needed an answer. “Do you think his anxiety will lessen? It’s almost two years since he was shot.”

“It takes time to heal from trauma,” said Jefferson, as he scraped off some frosting, disappointed Madison wasn’t there to eat it for him.

“James seemed like he got over Adams’ assaulting him without repercussion.” He stared at his cake.

“He didn’t have a personal relationship with Adams,” Jefferson reminded him. “Alex was shot by his bio dad. Even if he didn’t know him well, there was a lot of baggage attached to that. Plus, Alex has been abandoned by people he’s loved and hurt by people he cared about. Jem didn’t have any emotional connection to Adams and that made it easier for him to process it and not have to remember all the time. He didn’t have Alex’s childhood either. He hurts sometimes, though, and I think it’s probably in his favor that I’m ace.” He stood up and set his plate on the dresser. “If you have doubts—”

“I don’t.” Laurens met Jefferson’s eyes. “But I hate seeing him hurting so much.”

Jefferson nodded. He sat next to Laurens. “Trust me, I get that. Jem always being sick drags me down a lot. I try to focus on the good things and make the most of when he’s feeling well. There are always going to be times that suck but, I think, you’re strong enough, John. You’ve grown and learned what was important to you. Aaron could never have done that and would never have been stable enough to support Alexander. I know you mean the world to Alex, after Washington, obviously. You’re a good person.” He paused as he realized how talkative the alcohol had made him. “I’m oddly proud of you.”

Laurens stared at his cake, cheeks warm. “Thanks, T, that means a lot to me.” He nibbled a bite off his fork. “I know your friendship means a lot to Alex, too. He admires you a lot.”

Jefferson looked at Hamilton snuggled in his blankets. “I always knew Jemmy was right about him. Just took me a while to see it.”

Laurens snorted. “Nah, he was an ass back then. We all were.” He stuffed the rest of the cake in his mouth. He swallowed. “But you think his anxiety won’t control him like this forever?”

“Not with the current issues, at least,” Jefferson said. “Love him and always be there for him. That’s what he’s always wanted.”

Laurens nodded. “That won’t be hard to do at all.”

They left Hamilton alone for a few minutes to congratulate Lafayette and Adrienne. Afterward, Jefferson was buzzed enough for Laurens to persuade him to dance one slow song together.


	83. Chapter 83

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath

The party had ended not long after Hamilton woke from his slumber. It was after midnight and he was wide-awake and hungry. He spotted the kitchen light on as he stumbled downstairs. As he drew closer, he saw the glow from the TV flashing from the dark family room and heard the faint volume.

 “Dad?”

Washington glanced over the back of the recliner. “How’re you feeling, Alex?”

“Better.” Hamilton slipped into the dark room. “Where’s John?”

“Lafayette’s old room,” Washington said. “He didn’t want to disturb your rest.”

Hamilton nodded. “I take it Lafayette and Adrienne have left?”

“Yes.” Washington drained the last of his drink.

Hamilton chewed on his lip. “I feel bad I couldn’t participate. I didn’t get to give a speech.”

“Lafayette understands.” He set the glass on the end table.

“Does he, though?” Hamilton sat on the coffee table in front of his dad, chin in his hands. “We’ve always had a difficult time seeing eye to eye.”

“You’re brothers.” Washington reached forward and tapped Hamilton’s nose. “August and I didn’t get along either until we were well into our thirties. I know you’re sensitive to Laf’s remarks—and he shouldn’t be quite so mean—but try not to let them get to you. You both love each other.” He pushed himself out of the recliner. “Time for me to get to bed. There are plenty of leftovers in the fridge.” He kissed Hamilton’s head. “Goodnight, son.”

“Night.” Hamilton claimed the vacated recliner and found something to watch on TV before he got back up to raid the fridge. He stayed up for a couple of hours before he began to yawn. He returned upstairs and stole into the bedroom at the end of the hall. He slipped in next to Laurens and scooted closer until their backs touched. Sleep claimed him a few minutes later.

***

The dogs woke Mrs. Washington at the usual early hour. But being all senior dogs, once their bellies were full, they were content to return to bed for a few hours. Still, she was the first awake around nine. Knowing what the day held before her, she dressed in her most comfortable loose dress and slippers.

The house had an apocalyptic-look to it with overturned folding chairs, scattered paper plates and napkins, and random lost items. If she weren’t expecting plenty of help that morning to clean, the mess would have made Mrs. Washington cry in defeat. She ignored it all for now and made coffee and tea while Potato begged for second breakfast.

When the doorbell rang, the dogs broke into their usual chorus.

“Out of the way, dears,” Mrs. Washington said as she moved toward the front door. Expecting August and his family, she didn’t double check before she opened the door. A grave mistake when she found herself with only a security door between her and Mother Washington. And that door hadn’t been locked in the chaos of leaving guests the night before.

“Good morning, Marta,” Mother Washington said with a sneer. She opened the metal door and let herself inside.

Potato growled a vicious snarl while the rest of the pack fled in terror.

Mother Washington tsked. “Why am I not surprised this place is infested with giant rats.” She tapped Potato with her cane and the feisty Chihuahua attacked it.

“Potato!” Mrs. Washington scooped her up before the vile woman hurt the dog. She turned to her mother-in-law as her heart pounded. “You need to leave, Mary.”

Instead, Mother Washington removed her black leather gloves a finger at a time. “Where is that lazy son of mine? No wonder he has amounted to nothing still abed at ten in the morning.” She made that raspy tsk in her throat again.

Mrs. Washington couldn’t find the courage to retort and glanced wistfully upstairs. She thought she heard faint noises and hoped someone would come to her aid soon. She’d long ago given up attempting to defend herself and husband to the insolent woman.

“It’s to be expected,” continued Mother Washington, “boys without a father can only amount to so much and the Lord knows he was a difficult child for a single mother to raise.”

“George is a college professor who has raised countless children,” Mrs. Washington snapped as she found her voice. “I don’t understand how you can think so little of your son.”

Mother Washington’s beady eyes blinked slowly. “He could have been a doctor or lawyer.” Her cane struck the floor. “Instead he decided to marry much too young to the first lustful creature to cross his path.” She shook her head, lips in a thin line. “Look at what you’re wearing. What do you weigh, three-hundred pounds? His taste in women has always been appalling. Any fat cow that—”

“You shut the fuck up!” Hamilton shouted from the top of the stairs. He thundered down the steps and jumped.

Mother Washington staggered back as he landed barely a foot in front of her. Her face twisted in disgust and she waved her gloves in his face. “Shoo, you maggot.”

Hamilton stuck out his tongue. “I’m fine right here, Grandmama.”

“Oh, you vile—!” Her hand reached out to slap him.

“Don’t you dare.” Washington appeared on the stairs and moved faster than he had in ages to put himself between them. “Hit my son again and I will throw you out the door.” He glanced at his wife and nodded for her to flee to the kitchen.

Mother Washington stepped back to give herself enough space to prod him with her cane. “That thing needs manners. Although I am not surprised, those foster brats are all monsters.”

“What do you even know about foster children, Mother?” Washington demanded. “You don’t even know a thing about _any_ child.” He clenched his hands on Hamilton’s shoulders. “You’re the last person to suggest parental advice.”

Mother Washington stared at him with her wrinkled face and emotionless eyes. “You have sunk so low in life, George. Your poor father must be turning in his grave.”

“He was cremated,” Washington said without breaking eye contact. “Why are you even here?”

“Why else, George?” She didn’t get a chance to finish, though, as the bedroom door nearest the stairs closed and Laurens appeared in tight joggers and a pink t-shirt. Mother Washington’s face slacked into disbelief and her gloves fell to the floor. “He’s a homosexual.”

Hamilton bit his lip hard to keep from grinning but the smile was quick to vanish as Mother Washington tore into his boyfriend.

“That is appalling!” she shrieked. “Those homosexuals flaunt themselves and their vile immorality. I didn’t think I could be more disappointed in you, George. The life you lead, the _monsters_ you let live in your house. Disgusting.”

Hamilton glanced at his boyfriend and called up, “You’re disgusting.”

Laurens grinned. “Thanks.” He came downstairs and bowed to Mother Washington. “You’ll be my grandmother-in-law someday.”

She stepped away from him and before anyone could stop her, wacked Laurens on the shoulder with her cane.

“Fuck you!” Laurens snarled and clutched his throbbing arm.

Washington put himself between them and didn’t hesitate to push his mother further away. “I told you not to hit my boys,” he growled, his body seeming to grow larger as he puffed himself up and stood over the psychotic old lady. “You don’t belong here. You get the fuck out and don’t come back.”

Mother Washington straightened her shoulders and stared down her son. “No.” She pressed the crook of her cane into her son’s stomach. “Back off. Make all the threats you want, George, I know your morals will keep you from hitting me.”

“Hit her, Dad,” Hamilton said.

But Washington backed off. “What do you want, Mother?”

“A place to stay for starters,” said Mother Washington with a cocky gleam in her eyes. “That poor, old dump you left me in needs some renovations. I need you to pay for that and I will stay here until the work is completed.”

“No,” Washington said quickly. “You’ve said this house is too small and it is. We have no space for you.” He folded his arms. “Why would you want to stay in New York anyway? You’ve always lived in Virginia.”

“Change of scenery.” She caught sight of Hamilton and Laurens standing close together and her lip curled. “That thing you call your son is homosexual, too?”

“Yes,” Hamilton spat. “That’s why my boyfriend said you’d be his grandmother, too, you deaf twat.”

“Alexander,” Washington hissed under his breath and squeezed the back of his neck. “You cannot stay here, Mother.”

“Hmph.” Mother Washington moved around him and ventured further into the house. “What a mess. Gracious, you live like a pig, George.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Washington moved in front of her. “Get out. I will call the police.”

“Do that, George.” She brushed past him and headed for the kitchen.

Hamilton and Laurens ran ahead of her and blocked the entrance.

“Why would you want to stay here?” Hamilton questioned. “You’d be living with a homosexual monster.”

“That can be corrected,” Mother Washington said. She raised her cane.

Laurens flinched and moved aside.

The door to the family room was closed, the dogs and Mrs. Washington safe inside for now.

Mother Washington shook her head at the cluttered and dirty kitchen. “Filth. Disgusting,” she muttered under her breath. She pulled cabinets and drawers open. “That cow you call a wife has no actual skills as a housewife, does she?”

Washington’s jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. “We had a wedding here yesterday,” he said in a clipped voice. “Martha is an amazing housewife and woman.”

Mother Washington rolled her eyes. She opened another drawer near the sink and pulled out a knife.

The color drained from Washington’s face and he moved to shield Hamilton and Laurens. “Run,” he murmured. He kept his eyes on the crazy woman. “What are you doing, Mother?”

“What I should have done the moment I found out I was pregnant.” Her back remained turned as she caressed the blade.

Hamilton and Laurens backed out of the room and called the police.

“Does Dad have a gun?” Laurens whispered after he’d explained the situation on the phone.

Hamilton shook his head. Lines creased his forehead as he trembled. This was a thousand times worse than what his anxiety had conjured. And his therapist had always told him his visions were hyper-inflated and wouldn’t come true. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes.

“Go lock yourself in the bathroom,” Laurens whispered as he tried to hear anything going on in the kitchen. “If you panic—”

Hamilton dropped his hands from his eyes. “I won’t panic.” His gaze held steady on Laurens’ face.

Laurens nodded.

In the kitchen, Washington kept his focus on his mother and tried to understand what was going on. She’d always been crazy but in an eccentric boozy way. Sure, she’d beat him and his siblings with anything she could get her hands on but she’d never drawn a knife on them. She’d never turned murderous. But now his only thought was, had she killed his father?

“Mother? Put the knife down.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the door to the family room open a crack. He shook his head at his wife but kept his attention on Mother Washington. “Mother?”

“Shut the fuck up, George.” Mother Washington grabbed a nearly empty bottle of alcohol off the counter and launched it at him.

He ducked in time but as the bottle shattered, the shrapnel cut his ear and neck. The wounds were of little consequence but the sting of pain distracted him for a second and that was all Mother Washington needed to throw the knife.


	84. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Kind of a gruesome chapter and lots of mental instability.

The sirens cut through the quiet Sunday morning of the Estates. A wealthy neighborhood with little crime, the flashing lights and noise caught the neighbor’s attention… until they saw the police car and ambulance pull into Mount Vernon. That house was always causing problems. All the children those Washington’s took in and the insane parents that showed up at all hours demanding their children back. There was always something chaotic going on there. The neighbors would never have believed it was Washington’s own parent causing the problems this time. Nor would they have been able to comprehend the gruesome scene in the kitchen.

Mrs. Washington’s scream rose above the sirens outside as the knife missed her husband by a centimeter. But even her voice was drowned out by the delirious laughter of Mother Washington as she grabbed another knife and threw it.

That one, too, missed and her frustration and psychosis mounted. She grabbed another knife and turned it on herself.

“Mother!” Washington shouted and tried to stop her. But her movements were so erratic he didn’t know what to do.

Blood covered her hands as she stabbed herself again and again. It spurted and gushed and still, she attacked herself. Her laughter turned to inhuman shrieks. Droplets of blood flew from the knife and splattered the walls and window above the kitchen sink.

Washington backed away as she collapsed and the knife clattered to the floor. The metallic odor burned his nose and the macabre, bloody scene seared forever into his memory. He pinched his fingers against his trembling lips, shocked, uncomprehending.

“Dad?”

He heard the fearful whisper of his son and pulled himself to reality. He gathered his family and moved them away from the kitchen as the police entered the house. With a shaking hand, he pointed the officer to the scene. Bile burned his throat and a weakness settled in his stomach. He could taste the blood in his mouth, as the scent remained locked in his nose.

The rest of the day became a blur, a dream, something none of the family would ever be a hundred percent sure on what transpired.

August and his family arrived at some point and they, too, could only stare off and wonder. Wonder what that woman had been on. Wonder if she would have killed any of them instead of herself. Wonder… Wonder…

The police instructed the Washington’s to stay elsewhere until the investigation was complete and the kitchen professionally cleaned. Necessary belonging and the dogs were gathered up and family found themselves in the Madison’s foyer, telling them that, yes, the sirens had been because of them, yes, they were okay.

Mr. and Mrs. Madison played it off to the younger children as a sleepover because the Washington’s kitchen had a “little accident” and needed to be made safe again.

Bess stared at Hamilton. “Did you cook?”

Hamilton was too bewildered to do anything but give a strained, almost crazy smile. His eyes haunted, a random tremor running through his body. He’d seen many horrible things in his life but he was certain Mother Washington stabbing herself seven times was the worst.

The Washington’s and dogs were shown up to the guest room. Madison gave up his room to Hamilton and Laurens and took his oft-used sick bed in his parent’s room.

“What the fuck happened?” Hamilton asked as he and Laurens sat in the window seat in Madison’s room long after bedtime.

“I…” Laurens couldn’t find any words and stared out the dark window. Slowly, his gaze met Hamilton’s and tears brimmed over his eyes. “It’s how I had imagined…” Sobs shook his body and made his sore shoulder throb. He didn’t picture Mother Washington dead and bloody on the kitchen floor but Hamilton and he couldn’t unsee it. When he’d found Hamilton in the shower a year ago the bloodshed had been minimal as the water washed it away but now with the new picture in his head, he was convinced Hamilton had been covered in blood, body slashed in multiple places. What if that had been true? What if Hamilton had been dead when he discovered him?

“John.” Hamilton’s chest ached as he gripped his boyfriend and his own tears spilled down his cheeks. Why did everything always turn back to that? He hated himself more and more for attempting suicide and the pain it languished on his boyfriend. He thought he’d forgiven himself. Now he was certain he never could. Enough blood had been shed that day yet the ache to cut himself burned in him. He would always be selfish. He swallowed as his breathing escalated and that yearn—that hunger—for the sweet release of pain to dim the agony of life overwhelmed him. He couldn’t tell Laurens. Couldn’t ask for help right then. No one needed his suffering on top of everything else.

“John,” he repeated and stroked Laurens’ hair. “I really have to pee, I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”

Laurens let go.

Hamilton hurried into Madison’s bathroom and made a quick search for anything sharp. He found a pair of hair cutting scissors and drew the blade fast across his arm.

The sting made his eyes water. The cut had been deeper than he expected and blood bubbled up fast. A tremor ran through his body as the blood spilled over and ran down his arm.

“John!”

The door banged open. “Fuck!” Laurens grabbed a towel off the bathroom counter and pressed it against Hamilton’s arm. “Why, Alex?” It wasn’t a question but a plea. Tears smarted his eyes. “Why?”

“I’m sorry.” Hamilton gasped as anguish and tears overwhelmed him. He pressed his face into Laurens’ chest, shakes wracking his slender body.

Laurens held him tight, eyes closed, his own body filled with more pain than he could bear. He caught sight of the scissors lying open on the floor. It was almost too easy. A cut and it could all be over. No wonder Hamilton had attempted it once. No one wonder Mother Washington succeeded. He’d be damned if that didn’t sound like the best idea. Just fucking end it all.

“Alex, come on.” Laurens guided Hamilton out of the bathroom and away from the intrusive thoughts. He got his boyfriend to sit on the bed and removed the towel. The cut was deep but not to where it would need stitches.

Hamilton met Laurens’ eyes in quick glances. “I’m sorry.” He bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Jack, I’m not worth it. I can’t heal.”

“Shh.” Laurens took his hand. “Today was terrible in ways we’re never going to be able to explain. But we survived. You’re hurting; I’m hurting but we’ll get through this because we love each other. Let me find a band-aid and then we’ll go to bed.”

Hamilton kept ahold of Laurens’ hand. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” he murmured.

“I know.” Laurens kissed his fingers. “I know cutting is an addiction. I’ve done some research on it to try to understand. I know you don’t like telling anyone when you feel the urge but can you practice making that your priority? I’ll never think less of you. I don’t want you to hurt.”

Hamilton nodded and bit back another apology.

His cut was soon covered with a large princess band-aid and he joined Laurens in bed after they cleared out a few stuffed animals. “How’s your shoulder?”

“I’m so numb right now,” Laurens admitted. “Sleep will help, right?”

“I hope so.” He winced as he bumped his left arm and lay awake, eyes open, unable to close them and risk seeing Mother Washington’s vacant, staring eyes and her bleeding body full of holes.

 

Once he decided it was an acceptable hour, Hamilton got out of bed and found the guest room by following the sounds of barking dogs. Agitated and confused, the dogs had spent the night barking at every little sound of Montpelier. The Washington’s had gotten little sleep and were up when Hamilton knocked.

Washington sat on the edge of the bed as he tied his shoes while his wife was in the bathroom. “Did you sleep at all?” he asked seeing the pale face of his son, circles under his eyes like bruises.

“I don’t think so,” Hamilton said in a raspy voice. He sat on Washington’s knee and leaned back against his dad. He closed his eyes as the strong arms encircled him. “I don’t understand.”

“Drugs, I presume,” Washington said. He felt the band-aid under Hamilton’s sleeve and pushed it up.

Hamilton didn’t have any words and stared at Potato and Noodle watching him from the floor.

Washington tugged his son’s sleeve back down. He rubbed a hand against Hamilton’s head and tucked him close under his chin. “Don’t hold this in,” he said softly. “We can talk about it as much as you need.” He thought of the cruel irony of his mother killing herself a year and ten days after his son attempted it. She hadn’t known, though. But he knew Hamilton, who already struggled with the pain of his selfish attempt, would feel even worse now to have seen a suicide and know the traumatic aftermath. If his mother’s goal in life had been to hurt him and his family, she succeeded with greater triumph than she could have imagined.


	85. Chapter 85

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hairy Harry

The family returned to Mount Vernon three days later after the investigation was finished—ruled suicide—and the kitchen professionally deep-cleaned to remove all the blood.

Potato and Noodle were intrigued by the kitchen and spent a substantial amount of time sniffing around until Mrs. Washington put them outside. Potomac refused to go in the kitchen, not even to eat or to get to the back door. France and Mugsley had no cares.

“Mom and I have to go to Virginia for the funeral,” Washington told Hamilton during dinner in the front room. Returning to the wedding mess had almost been more of a shock, as it was hard to comprehend that had been the day before Mother Washington lost it. Lafayette and Adrienne still didn’t know as they’d left on their honeymoon to Florida that same morning and Washington didn’t want to disturb them.

“You don’t have to,” Hamilton said.

Washington pursed his lips. “I need the closure.”

Hamilton nodded in understanding, as he’d needed the same with Mr. Stevens. “I don’t have to, though, right?”

“No, you can stay,” Mrs. Washington said. “We’re just trying to figure out where and what to do with the dogs.”

Hamilton finished chewing a bite of pizza. “John can stay here with me.”

The Washington’s glanced at each other.

“John has work,” Washington said. “We don’t want you by yourself, especially not when he’s working late.”

“But there is no one else to watch the dogs,” Hamilton said. They usually relied on the Jefferson sisters but all of them had work or school. “I’m trying to make this easy for you and them.”

“That’s true,” Mrs. Washington said. “George?”

Washington rubbed his chin. “Maybe Thomas can stay with you as well. Then someone will be here in the evenings when John is at work.”

“Okay,” Hamilton agreed. “I’ll be fine.” He looked between his parents. “I promise.”

“We’d rather you were with us,” Washington said. “We’ll stay with August and you wouldn’t have to go to the funeral.”

“The dogs,” Hamilton reminded him. “Let me watch them.”

“It’ll be okay, dear,” Mrs. Washington said and patted her husband’s arm. “John will be here most of the morning and Thomas in the evening. Alex will only be by himself a few hours. You can always spend that time at Montpelier.”

“Got it,” Hamilton said. “Two nights and three days, I can handle myself.”

Washington still looked doubtful. “You’ll call us every few hours.”

“Dad!” Hamilton groaned. “I know these past few days have been traumatic and I’m prone to hurting myself and anxiety and a bunch of crap but I can do this. This will be healing for me to know I can take care of myself. Please.”

Washington sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, but you still call us every few hours.”

“Yes, Dad.” He struggled not to roll his eyes.

***

Laurens went with him to drop off his parents at the airport. He became ever gladder of the company after he said goodbye, plus not wanting to look a baby in front of his boyfriend helped him hold it together.

“This is so weird,” Laurens said as he went into the kitchen. He stared at the floor. “What was she on?”

Hamilton pulled Laurens out of the room. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Sorry.” He got down on the floor to pet Potomac. “I have to leave at eleven-thirty and Thomas said he’d be here about two.” He looked at his boyfriend winding Potato up. “You’ll be okay?”

Hamilton booped the Chihuahua on the nose. “Yeah.”

“James is probably home if you want—”

“John, I can be alone for three hours.” Hamilton stared him down.

Laurens crawled toward him and kissed his lips. “Okay.”

An hour later when Laurens left, Hamilton saw him out and made sure both doors were locked. He turned to face the dogs. “I lied to everyone, what am I supposed to do?”

Tails wagged at the sound of his voice and Potato jumped up at his leg.

Hamilton picked up the dog and sucked in several deep breaths. “I’m okay. I can handle being alone. I’m not depressed, I’m not anxious.” He watched the dogs. “And we’ll ignore that my grandmother killed herself in the kitchen. Okay?”

The dogs barked their agreement.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

The pack followed him into his room and settled themselves on his bed. 

Hamilton closed the door and wished it locked. “I’m not scared,” he told Potato.

The bug-eyed dog stared at him in disbelief.

“Okay, I’ll stop lying,” Hamilton said. “Let’s find something to do until Thomas gets here.” He gathered his dragons and sat on the floor. He propped up his phone and called Madison on a video chat.

“You don’t like being home alone either,” Madison said at once. “Yes, I’m not the only one!”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What’re you doing?”

Madison panned the camera to show his friend the stuffed animals on the floor around him.

“Nice!” Hamilton showed him the dragons.

Time sped by as they chatted and made up stories. It was almost two o’clock when Madison mentioned he was starving.

“Same,” Hamilton said as his stomach growled. “Thomas will be here soon. Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Anytime, Alex.” He grinned at his friend. “Talk to you later. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Hamilton disconnected the call. He turned to the pack. “Thomas will be here soon. Potato, you can’t bite him, okay?”

She gave him the same disgruntled side-eye look as before.

“Bite him in the ass at least. That’s where I’d—”

Potomac barked and Hamilton jumped to his feet. He listened, heart pounding. A stair creaked, then another. _That better be Thomas,_ Hamilton thought but he hadn’t heard a car pull up or the front door open. Unfortunately, he knew he couldn’t rely on the dogs to alert him to intruders since half of them were deaf. He crept toward the door and opened it a crack.

“Alexander,” Jefferson called out.

Hamilton sighed with relief and hurried downstairs. “T!” He threw himself at Jefferson who caught him in a bear hug.

“Hey, bud.” He tugged Hamilton’s orange hat over his eyes. He glanced up when he heard Potato growl from the top of the stairs. “Oh, boy.”

“I told her not to bite you,” Hamilton said but left the rest unsaid. “I have to get Mugsley off my bed.”

“Have you eaten?” Jefferson asked before his friend ran off.

“No.” He hurried upstairs to help the old dogs off his bed and heard his phone ringing. Figuring it was his dad, he answered without paying much attention.

“May I speak to Alexander Hamilton?”

“Um—” Hamilton pulled the phone away to look at the number. The area code was local but otherwise, he didn’t recognize the number. “This is him.”

“My name is Jacques Prevost,” he said. “We met a few years ago upstate. I heard recently that you’re looking for a job and would like to meet with you.”

“Oh.” Hamilton chewed on his thumbnail and wished for words. He did remember Mr. Prevost from a brief meeting with him during his internship upstate at the Schuyler house. That was back when he had confidence. Mr. Prevost had told him he didn’t need to finish law school. Hamilton doubted Mr. Prevost would have the same opinion now. “Um…” How could he explain that he wouldn’t exactly be qualified for a job? “May I think about it? Sorry, it’s just a chaotic time right now,” he rambled, “and this is a surprise. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“That’s fine,” Mr. Prevost said. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

“Yes, sir.” Hamilton hung up and closed his eyes. This could have been his dream job but now he doubted he could nail an interview. “Fuck.”

***

While Hamilton attempted to keep house in the Estates, downtown Theodosia had little trouble settling into her new house, except that it needed one thing.

“I got my cat,” Theodosia told Burr as soon as he sat at his desk Friday morning. “I’m picking him up after work from the animal shelter.”

Burr shook his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “I’ll come over and meet the beastie tonight. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Theodosia said. “As long as Angelica isn’t offended if we skip pizza night.”

“She’s staying with Jane tonight, so I doubt it.” He looked up at her standing near his chair. “May I spend the night?”

Theodosia ran a finger along his jaw. “Yes.”

They parted ways to get their work done, swapping paperwork and sharing smiles but keeping it professional. Theodosia left first to pick up her new cat and gave the keys to Burr to close up at six.

He finished his work, watching the clock. He made sure everyone left, waved to the security guard, and locked the door. He walked home, changed, and threw what he needed in a backpack. While he waited for Theodosia to text him once she was home, he texted Angelica to make sure she’d made it to Jane’s. She had and he soon had the okay from Theodosia to meet the new cat.

Not wanting to waste time walking, Burr took the bus since it would stop at the end of Theodosia’s block. He skipped up her front steps ready to meet what he expected would be a dainty, fluffy cat.

Theodosia opened the door with a wide grin. “Ready?”

“Well...”

She pushed the door open further and Burr spotted the largest cat he’d ever seen meandering across the room, tail in the air swaying gently.

“Um...”

“His name is Hairy Harry,” Theodosia gushed. “He’s super friendly and chill.”

Burr closed the door behind him. “It’s what now?”

“Hairy Harry,” she repeated. “Hairy as in ‘hair’ and Harry as in the name.”

“Um, Theo, that’s...” He watched his girlfriend in amused bewilderment. “I think we need to talk.”

Theodosia rolled her eyes. “Come on.” She dragged Burr closer to Maine Coon that resembled a small mountain lion more than a house cat.

Hairy Harry’s golden eyes watched Burr. He purred as Theodosia stroked him.

“He’s as big as you, Theo,” Burr said. He offered his hand to the cat who ignored him. “I thought you wanted a lap cat?”

“I couldn’t resist this one.” She lugged the giant cat in her arms and the rumbling purr intensified. “Isn’t he cute?”

“He is cute.” Burr offered his hand again and this time Hairy Harry bumped his head against it and let Burr scratch him.

“What do you want for dinner?” Theodosia asked. She set down the cat, her sweater now covered in sticky fur. “We could order pizza but I’m kind of starving.”

“I’m not picky,” Burr said. He followed her to the fridge. “We can have sandwiches and wine.”

“Sounds romantic and grown-up.” Theodosia grabbed plates and bread while Burr got out ham, cheese, and mayonnaise from the fridge. 

“Did you get out lettuce?” Theodosia questioned as she sat at the small kitchen table.

“What?” Burr stared at her in mock disbelief. “You buy fresh produce?”

She rolled her eyes. “When was the last time you had a vegetable?”

Burr thought. “When was the last time I had dinner over here?”

“You poor child.” Theodosia got up. “I’m making a salad.” She quickly shredded some lettuce and left a few leaves for their sandwiches. She tossed in cherry tomatoes and some baby carrots. 

Now, they sat down together and made their sandwiches and chatted about work.

A few bites in, Hairy Harry made his grand entrance and jumped on the table. The whole table shook, wine spilled, lettuce flew through the air. The giant cat sprawled out across the center of the table and licked his paws.

“Goodness, Harry,” Theodosia said. “We need to work on manners apparently.” She got up to get a towel to wipe up the wine. “Sorry, Aaron.”

“No, don’t worry,” Burr said. “Any child of mine would be just as badly behaved.” He plucked cat hair off his food.

Theodosia lugged the cat off and set him next to his food bowl where he’d gobbled his kibble down an hour earlier. “You have to stay off the table while we’re eating, Harry,” she told him and scratched his head. 

He purred and rose up on his toes.

Theodosia kissed his head and returned to the table to finish dinner. 

Once the meal was over and cleaned up, the couple sat on the floor and played with Hairy Harry. He chased balls and batted toy mice around with his big feet.

Theodosia and Burr talked as they played with him and laughed at his goofy antics. At a quarter to ten, the cat decided he’d had enough and plopped down in the middle of the room to groom his toes.

“Well, it is about bedtime,” Theodosia said.

“Yeah, ‘bedtime’,” Burr agreed. He kissed her, teasing his hands through her hair.

She tickled his stomach until he snorted with laughter and let go. “Come on.” Theodosia pulled him up and they went upstairs, turning off the lights and letting Hairy Harry finish his grooming in peace.

While Theodosia was in the bathroom, Burr scanned the room, pleased to see that she had hung up several of the pictures they’d taken together on the wall. 

“What side of the bed do I get?” Burr asked.

“Side by the window,” Theodosia told him from the bathroom.

Burr sprawled out on that side of the bed and pulled off his hoodie. 

A few minutes later, Theodosia came out of the bathroom in pajama pants and a long-sleeve t-shirt. 

“I thought we were gonna...” Burr gestured.

“I got my period. Sorry,” Theodosia said.

Burr sat up. “Don’t apologize for that.” He reached toward her and grinned. “I’m glad you’re not pregnant.”

Theodosia’s return smile was uneasy. “You don’t have to stay the night now if you don’t want to.”

Lines creased Burr’s brow. “I don’t care if you’re on your period. But if you want me to leave—”

“No,” Theodosia shook her head, “but I know it grosses guys out and—”

“Is that what Jacques was like?” Burr questioned. 

Theodosia nodded.

“Bastard.” Burr kissed Theodosia’s fingers. “What a coward. You don’t have to worry about me. I had a sister. It’s a biological function, not gross.”

Her smile grew less strained. “Thanks, Aaron.” She got in bed.

Burr changed and got in bed with her. He watched her sitting up and picking at her nails. “What’re you worried about?”

“Not worried,” Theodosia said. “Confused about what else Jacques had me believe for all those years.”

“I’m sorry, Theo.” He rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand. 

“He wouldn’t let me sleep in our bed because I might get blood on the blankets.” She focused her attention on Burr’s hand.

“Shit, Theo.” Burr scooted closer and let her rest her head on his shoulder. “I’ll kick him in the ass for you.”

“Thank you.” She patted his cheek. “The sentiment is appreciated.”

“Do you need anything? Heating pad, ice cream?”

Theodosia smiled. “I’m good.” She snuggled closer to him. “Just don’t elbow me in the gut.”

“Noted.”

They snuggled a little longer before Burr got up to turn off the lights. Not long after the room went dark, they heard a loud meow from downstairs.

Theodosia called out to the cat and he meowed again and they heard him run up the stairs. A moment later, he launched himself on the bed and shook the whole thing when he landed. His purr continued to vibrate the bed as he rubbed his head against Theodosia’s face.

“Good kitty,” Theodosia cooed to him.

He mewed back at her and moved to lay in the middle of the bed. He kneaded the blankets, still purring like a small motor.

“I think he’s happy,” Burr said.

Theodosia reached around the cat to find Burr’s hand. “Him and me both.”


	86. Chapter 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghosts

Three-hundred miles away, the Washington’s found August waiting for them at the airport and headed for the original Mount Vernon. No one spoke much in the car and once at the house, the brothers disappeared into the office.

“I got a copy of the coroner’s report,” August said. He handed Washington a folder off his desk. 

Washington sat in one of the leather armchairs and read the report. “She was on everything.”

August set down two drinks and took a seat. “All that smoking she did when we were kids caught up to her. A lot of those drugs were pain and anti-inflammatory medications.”

“I doubt she was being prescribed LSD,” Washington said and sipped his drink.

“True.” August stared at his drink. “I stopped by her house. George, that place was a disaster. It was barely livable. She wasn’t lying about needing renovations done. And—” He rubbed at his ear. “I checked into her accounts. She was destitute. I don’t think she had a reason to live.”

Washington scratched at his cheek. “I wish she hadn’t done it; not in front of Alexander.” He finished the Bourbon in another swallow, poured more and voiced his doubts. “With everything he’s already been through, how am I supposed to help him through this?”

“You’ve been doing an amazing job with him, George,” August said. “I don’t think you need to be concerned.”

“Then why do I feel like I never do enough?” He scanned his brother’s face.

“Mother.” August took a drink. “We never were enough for her. Nothing we did would have been good enough. You took the worst of it, George. She did everything in her power to make sure you believed you would never be adequate. You’ve hidden it well that her words got to you.”

Washington drained his second glass. “Depression runs in the family.”

“So does alcoholism.” August moved the liquor bottle out of his brother’s reach. “Tell me more about Alexander.”

Washington stared into his empty glass. “He’s an amazing kid. Smart, talented. He knows what he wants and he’ll achieve it.” The words came out easily and a faint smile tugged at his lips. “He’s had a lot of setbacks, though. Depression, anxiety, he’s lost a lot of his confidence.”

“So, he’s you,” August said.

Washington looked at his brother. “Pardon?”

A chuckle escaped August’s throat. “You’ve always been the smartest in the family and went after what you wanted. You’ve had your setbacks, too, and you have many doubts. Isn’t that why you were drawn to him? Because he reminded you of yourself?”

“He was a brat when I first met him.” Washington shook his head. “He was vulnerable and another kid I needed to save.”

“Because you were an angel at seventeen, too, right?” August teased. “If he’s like you, George, he’ll turn out just fine, better even since he has amazing parents. Don’t worry about him so much.”

“Hmph.” Washington set aside his empty glass. “I’ll worry about him until the day I die, which was almost a lot sooner thanks to the stress he puts me through.”

August leaned forward. “Heart doing better?”

“Medication and diet changes are working.” Washington ran a finger along the rim of his empty glass.

“Better cut back on the alcohol.”

“Shut up.”

August settled back into his chair with a smirk. “That John kid seems pretty intent on marrying your boy. Are you going to let him?”

“Perhaps.” Washington pulled out his phone. “I should call home.”

August stopped him. “Your wife can call. Relax.”

“I know you mean well, Auggie, but you don’t know all that I’ve gone through with Alex. He tried to kill himself a year ago. It’s why I wish Mother hadn’t, especially not in front of him.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, George.” August sighed and slumped in his chair. “Do you fear he’ll attempt again?”

“No.” Washington unlocked his phone.

August reached over and pulled it from his hands. “Then give him room to breathe. You need the same.” He stared at his older brother. “I know you mean well. I know Alex means the world to you and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. But, George, if you want to be in his life for as long as possible, you need to lower your stress levels. You need to take care of yourself. You are one heart attack away from losing it all. Don’t...” He trailed off as he lost his train of thought. “You’re important to a lot of people. Take care of yourself for them because I know you won’t do it for yourself.”

Washington sighed. “I’ve hate when you were right.”

“You always have. Makes it fun for me.” He smiled at his brother. “Your other boy, Lafayette, has your annoying attitude toward siblings. At least his nickname for his brother in endearing. You used to call me chicken head.”

Washington chuckled. “I did, didn’t I? Siblings are shit to each other.”

August grinned. “Anyway, so you’re going to be a grandfather?”

A grin grew across Washington’s face and tugged up the corners of his lips and made his eyes crinkle. “Yes. We’ll find out the gender next month and the baby will be due around July.”

“I’m happy for you.” August patted his arm. “You deserve a grandchild to spoil.”

“Something to keep myself healthy for, too, right?” He raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“Indeed.”

***

“Prepare yourself,” Jefferson told Washington on the phone as the couple waited to get on their plane home. “Alexander thinks the house is haunted and has convinced John. I’ve spent the past two nights with both of them in my bed. I haven’t slept.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” Washington said. He ground his teeth. “Hopefully, I can convince him otherwise.”

“Good luck, sir.”

The Washington’s arrived back in New York a few hours later and Hamilton picked them up from the airport. He didn’t say anything about his belief of Mother Washington haunting the house and only spoke of what the dogs did and how well behaved they were. He’d already told Washington about the possible interview and they planned to discuss it further at home.

“Everything went well then?” Washington asked.

“Decently,” Hamilton said. “When I was alone, I chatted on the phone with James.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Eh.”

Washington shared a glance with his wife. Maybe Hamilton would be fine now that they were home.

He found out he was wrong a quarter to midnight.

“Dad,” Hamilton whispered and shook him. “Dad.”

The moon was full and bathed the room in enough light for Washington to see Hamilton’s silhouette. “What?” He rubbed his eyes.

“I keep hearing things.”

Washington listened to the faint whistles and creaks. “It’s the wind. Go back to bed.”

Hamilton remained beside the bed, his pillow clutched to his chest.

“You’re not sleeping in here.” Washington yawned.

“Please?” His fingers dug into the pillow.

“Go back to your room.”

“Come with me then,” Hamilton pleaded.

Washington stopped another yawn. “You’ll be fine.”

Hamilton dragged himself back to his room.

An hour later, the familiar voice called his name again. Washington rolled out of bed and followed his son across the hall. He dropped onto Hamilton’s bed and would have been asleep in seconds if not for Hamilton’s whispers.

“Listen. That’s not the wind.” Hamilton sat up and stared at the open doorway.

Washington could barely keep his eyes open and couldn’t care less about the groans and crackles of the settling house and the continued wind. “Sleep, Alex.”

“What if the house is haunted now?” Hamilton asked.

“It’s not.”

“What if—”

“Sleep.” Washington pulled Hamilton toward him and crushed him close.

 

When Laurens spent the next night at Mount Vernon, Washington naively thought that would keep Hamilton out of his room. Instead, he woke around midnight, legs cramped and unable to move. He turned on the light beside his bed. “Out, both of you.”

Somehow, Hamilton had gotten himself in the middle without waking either of his parents and Laurens had tucked himself in between legs and dogs at the foot of the bed.

The light and noise woke Mrs. Washington. She only sighed, cuddled Noodle closer and went back to sleep.

“Dad, she’s haunting the house,” Hamilton mumbled. He remained in the middle of the bed, although Laurens rolled off.

“She’s not, I promise.” Washington pointed them out. “You’ll be fine in your own room.”

“Listen,” whispered Hamilton.

Against better judgement, Washington did and let the power of suggestion cloud his mind and he heard the moan-like sound and the creak of the stairs. He clenched his jaw. “It’s nothing.”

“Daddy—”

“Out.”

Laurens tugged Hamilton’s foot. “Come on, Hammy.”

A gust of wind hit the house and made it shudder.

“Nope.” Hamilton burrowed under the blankets.

Washington turned off the light, too tired to argue further. “You can sleep on the floor, John.”

He forgot in the morning and stepped on Laurens, which made the boy yelp in surprise but he got out of the way.

But at least Laurens was easier to shake off, as his aunt needed him home early to take Isabelle to school. Hamilton, though, wouldn’t leave Washington’s side.

“Go pester your mom,” Washington said after he elbowed his son in the face while he tried to shave.

“I want to be with you,” Hamilton replied.

“I need to get ready for work, Alexander.” Washington watched his son and his adoring face. _Regression_ flashed through his mind and he was certain this clinginess was more of a coping mechanism than a belief Mother Washington haunted the house. “You have therapy today, don’t you?”

“Yes.” 

Washington patted his son’s cheek. “Make sure you discuss your fear of ghosts and needing me in your sight.”

Hamilton chewed on his thumbnail. “Can you come with me?”

“I have class.” He managed to finish shaving and washed his face. “If you don’t feel comfortable driving, Mom can take you.”

Hamilton didn’t answer and slipped his thumb further into his mouth.

“Alexander?” Washington touched his son’s head now covered in short hair that looked more orange than red. “I can help you feel better if you tell me what’s bothering you.”

He didn’t get a response and glanced at his watch. He had to leave in twenty minutes and knew with a sinking feeling that Hamilton was slowly shutting down. It was his mother’s doing, her suicide, and he hated her even more than he had before. If his son needed to return to the psychiatric ward because of her... Washington ground his teeth and pushed the thought away. 

“Let’s go find Mom.” He took Hamilton’s hand and led him downstairs to the sewing room. 

Mrs. Washington was already hard at work on a quilt for the new baby. A basket on a nearby table held two crocheted baby blankets, sweater, bonnet, and several pairs of socks and booties for the baby shower in a few months. Everything was in shades of yellow and light green to work for a boy or girl and could be handed down to future siblings.

“Martha.” Washington gave what he hoped was a normal and not stressed smile. “Alexander needs you to drive him to therapy today. Maybe take him out to lunch afterward.”

Mrs. Washington stopped the pedal and looked at her son with his shoulders hunched and fingers in his mouth. His face had a pinched, worried look, one she remembered seeing often on Anna when she was unsure. “Of course. Alex, go get a poptart for breakfast.”

Once he was gone, Washington closed the door. “Regression?”

“I’d say so.”

Washington sighed. “Good thing Mother is dead,” he snapped. “He stopped talking about five minutes ago.” He looked at his watch again. “I should stay home, go to therapy with him.” He bit back several cusses at the ordeal of life. Lafayette’s wedding was supposed to be their turning point, put things on a happier path. Didn’t they all deserve that?

“George,” Mrs. Washington distracted him. “I’ll take him. He’ll be okay. I can explain to his therapist what’s going on and tell him to call you later. Hopefully, he can point us in the direction to take with Alexander right now.”

Washington pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I suppose.”

“Go to work.” She got up from her stool and rose on her toes to kiss him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Thank you, dear.” He left the room and gathered his things. He found Hamilton in the family room curled up on the recliner eating a poptart and watching cartoons. He found himself wondering, as he’d often before, what Hamilton would have been like as a child if given a normal life. What would he be like now if he weren’t plagued by mental illness? “I’ll see you tonight, Alexander.” He kissed the top of his son’s head. “You’re safe, okay? Don’t forget that.”

Hamilton’s gaze remained on the TV.

Washington left with a broken heart and an unwelcome numbness in his left arm. 


	87. Chapter 87

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regression

Washington went through the motions that day and wished he was home every minute that ticked by. He realized with a sadness that teaching didn’t give him the same joy it used to. It had been a while since he’d formed a bond with a student, as he had been able to do for years. He had tried with Monroe but the skittish boy resisted his attempts and always scurried out of class quickly. 

He could retire at any time, Washington knew, and with a grandchild on the way, maybe he needed to pick an end date and put his focus wholly on his family and his own health. His arm still felt numb and he knew he should go to the emergency room on his lunch break but Hamilton would be getting out of therapy then and he didn’t want to miss any calls.

 _Stop being a fool_ , he commanded himself. _Think about Alexander. He wouldn’t survive if he lost you._ With that, Washington canceled his next class—he should retire considering how often he couldn’t teach—and headed to the hospital. 

He chewed on an aspirin as he drove and tried to ignore other pains flittering through his body; he was making himself anxious and creating phantom pains. 

The hospital got him in quickly and ran tests and administered drugs to lessen the likelihood of a blood clot. 

“Coming in when you did was the right thing,” the doctor said as he examined Washington’s test results. “No further damage was done to your heart. Keep taking care of yourself.”

Washington nodded slowly, mind in several different directions. He thanked the doctor and headed home. As he drove, his wife called him and he wondered whether to tell her what had happened. He couldn’t tell Hamilton, he knew that for sure. “Did Alex say how therapy went?” he asked.

“Are you driving?” she asked in return.

He’d kept enough from his wife before and wouldn’t do that again. He told her about his minor heart attack. “I’m fine, though. I’m on my way home to be with you and Alexander.”

He heard her sigh of relief. “We’ll talk then.”

Washington parked in the garage and the dogs and Hamilton greeted him inside. Cartoons played on the TV and a bunch of the toys they’d gotten for Anna were strewn across the family room. Hamilton went back to them without saying a word. 

Mrs. Washington met him outside of the kitchen and indicated they go in his office.

“This doesn’t seem good,” Washington said after he closed the door. 

“His therapist said he wouldn’t talk,” Mrs. Washington explained. “Martin talked to me a bit after and said he’s not surprised by Alexander’s regression and we shouldn’t worry too much about it. He’s dealing with a lot of stress and emotions and this is protecting him. He wants Alex to go to therapy every day to get him talking again so that we can help him better with what’s scaring him.” She watched her husband. “He said it’s okay to coddle Alex and let him do what he needs to do. He asked when the last time Alex might have felt safe and stress-free, I told him eleven or twelve. He thinks that would be what age Alex has regressed to.”

Washington nodded taking in the diagnosis. “Well...” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. The brain was a crazy organ and he wasn’t surprised Hamilton’s would take this route to protect itself. The boy had been through a significant amount of trauma and he deserved to find some safety, even if it seemed the oddest way to go. “I’ll call John,” he decided. “Let him know what’s going on.”

Laurens took the news in stride and only asked to be kept in the loop and what help he could be of.

When he got off the phone, Washington joined Hamilton in the family room and went on his iPad while his son played with the toy cars and action figures. 

As the afternoon went by, Hamilton started to whisper to himself and make sound effects. Washington kept his eyes on his screen but took in each noise, hoping something concrete would slip out and he could bridge the distance Hamilton had made between himself and reality. 

After a dramatic explosion, Hamilton left the toys and climbed into Washington’s lap.

He must have been tiny as a kid, Washington thought, his growth stunted long ago. IPad set aside, he rubbed Hamilton’s back and talked to him, telling him the few happy stories from his own childhood, none of which included his mother.

Hamilton remained quiet but Washington could tell he was present and taking in everything.

Mrs. Washington poked her head through the doorway. “Alexander, what would you like for dinner?”

Hamilton pressed a hand against his mouth and mumbled, “Chicken nuggets.”

Washington relayed the request since he doubted Hamilton’s voice had carried any further than the recliner.

Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Washington called them into the kitchen for dinner. Hamilton followed his dad but balked when he saw the table set. He shook his head rapidly and backed out of the room.

“We can eat in the front room, Alexander,” Washington told him. “Come fill your plate.”

Hamilton screamed instead.

From the kitchen, the couple could hear the sounds of toys being thrown. Washington hurried to stop the calamity and held Hamilton in a tight embrace while his son thrashed and shrieked.

“Easy, love,” Washington soothed. “I know you’re upset. You don’t have to go into the kitchen. Mom can bring your plate in here.”

Hamilton’s flailing lessened.

“Good boy.” Washington eased up his grip, thankful Hamilton was small and not very strong.

Hamilton plopped down on the floor and gathered the toys he’d thrown.

Mrs. Washington brought in his dinner plate and closed the door to keep the dogs from eating it as Hamilton set it on the floor and took bites in between playing.

***

“Hey, careful!” Jefferson said with a laugh as Madison splashed him in the hot tub.

“No, way!” Madison used both hands to move as much water as he could. He was strong enough only to need his wheelchair if he would be on his feet for extended periods. He had a little energy again and the strongest appetite he’d had in years. He stood up, swim shorts clinging to his scrawny legs, and half-climbed up his fiancé.

Jefferson grabbed him. “Easy.” The last thing Madison needed was to slip and crack open his head.

“Let’s go out on the balcony,” Madison said and got out of the water. He stripped off his shorts and pulled on his robe.

“It’s cold out,” Jefferson reminded him. He dried off while his fiancé opened the balcony door.

“Yup.” Madison quickly shut the door. He approached Jefferson and ran a hand down his bare chest. “I know you’re okay with it,” he said softly, “but I haven’t kissed you in forever.” He looked up to meet his fiancé’s dark eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

“I know.” Jefferson lifted him into his arms. “I missed you, too. No sex, though.”

Madison nuzzled into his neck. “That’s fine. Can you not put a shirt on?”

“Okay.” Their lips met for a moment and Jefferson felt Madison relax in his arms.

“I’m hungry,” Madison declared and traced a finger along Jefferson’s face. “I need cake.” He slid to the ground and opened the bathroom door.

“You need to get dressed.” He glanced down at his damp swim trunks.

“Nah.”

Jefferson heard him open his bedroom door. “Ugh, Jemmy.” He hurried after him.

In the kitchen, Mr. Madison sat at the kitchen table helping William and Nelly with homework.

Jefferson grinned at him and pointed to Madison. “Needs cake.” He winked at Nelly who went bright red.

“Of course,” Mr. Madison said. “Check the pantry.”

Madison had already found the cake and set it on the counter. He peeled back the plastic wrap and cut two huge pieces. “Can you get the milk, T?”

Jefferson poured two glasses and they returned upstairs. He changed into his favorite silk pajama pants and joined Madison on the bed.

Madison gobbled down the dessert and drank his milk. Two minutes later, while Jefferson still ate, he fell asleep.

He was like a kitten, Jefferson thought, going full-speed until he suddenly crashed. Just as long as he didn’t fall ill again. Jefferson stroked the thin, pale face. With everything that Hamilton was going through, he needed one of his best friends to have the strength to help him help the other.


	88. Chapter 88

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sea Lion

After they returned home from their honeymoon, Lafayette and Adrienne stopped by Mount Vernon.

The Washington’s hadn’t known what to say and when the newlyweds arrived, tried not to destroy their happiness with the grim news. 

“How was the trip?” Mrs. Washington asked as she poured tea. They sat in the front room, dogs gathered around to beg for a cookie.

“Awesome,” Lafayette said. “Disney World was a blast.” He squeezed his wife’s hand. “Where’s Alex?” He looked about. “We got him a few things.”

The Washington’s glanced at each other.

“Well...” Washington knew he had to spit it out. “It’s been an adventure here.” With a tight expression, he told them about Mother Washington and Hamilton’s subsequent break from reality. “He’s talking again at least.” The therapist had gotten through the silence a few days ago but Hamilton only wanted to talk about cartoons.

Lafayette stood up. “Is he in his room?”

“Yes. Laf—” Washington stopped him knowing he wasn’t always sensitive to Hamilton’s mental state. “I don’t know—”

“He’s my brother,” Lafayette interrupted. 

Washington let him go.

By the front door, Lafayette grabbed a bag and headed upstairs. He knocked on Hamilton’s door and poked in his head. “Hey, little lion.”

Hamilton looked up from the LEGO house he was building. “Hi.”

“May I come in?”

“Yeah.” 

Lafayette sat cross-legged on the floor near him and opened the bag. “We got you a few things in Florida.” He handed Hamilton a stuffed animal.

“A sea lion!” Hamilton hugged the toy to his chest. “Thanks.”

“These are from Disney World.” He handed Hamilton a keychain with _Alexander_ on it, a t-shirt, and a mug. 

Hamilton thanked him again, arms still tight around the stuffed animal. 

“Are you doing okay, bro?” Lafayette asked not quite sure what to make of his brother’s childlike demeanor.

Hamilton shrugged.

“What’re you building?”

Hamilton showed him the LEGO creation. “Mount Vernon.”

“Wow, that looks awesome.”

A shy smile touched Hamilton’s face. “I need more bricks.”

“I’m sure Dad would get you some more,” Lafayette said.

Hamilton pressed the sea lion against his face and scooted closer to his brother and settled on his lap.

Not used to that, Lafayette tensed at first, then wrapped his arms around Hamilton and held him tight. “You know you’re safe, right?” He kept his voice soft. “This is your home. No one will ever take that from you. Mom and Dad will never abandon you. I will never abandon you.” He rubbed the back of his brother’s hand. “You’re so strong, Alexander, with everything you’ve been through. I know you struggle sometimes and it’s okay to ask your family for help. You are never alone. The worst years are far behind you. You don’t have to be afraid of the future.” He held his brother tight and fought back a rush of emotions. He’d been mean to Hamilton hours before he attempted suicide. He’d been mean to him again a few days before he regressed. He discerned he wasn’t the main cause of either of those but he knew he had to stop picking on his brother, as he knew he didn’t always do it out of brotherly love. 

“Thanks, Laffy,” Hamilton whispered.

Lafayette just held him, face pressed to the back of Hamilton’s head as his eyes burned and brimmed with tears. He’d been jealous of Hamilton since he arrived, of all the attention he got from their dad. He should have realized long ago that Hamilton needed it, needed both of them. Putting him down constantly only hurt them and their parents. “Little lion, I’m sorry I’ve been mean to you. I’ve always been jealous of the attention Dad gives you.” He stroked Hamilton’s cheek. “I also know I promised you before I’d do better and I broke that. I won’t hurt you again, I promise you for sure. I want you in my kid’s life so bad and I would hate to push you away.”

Hamilton fiddled with the stuffed animal.

“But you don’t have to forgive me,” Lafayette continued. “I understand why you’d need to keep stupid people out of your life.”

Hamilton twisted in his arms and met his brother’s eyes. “I don’t like people being sad, Laffy.” He wiggled free and crawled over to his LEGO mess. “Help me with this.”

Forty-five minutes later and growing a little concerned, Washington went upstairs to see how the boys were doing. He found them sprawled out on the floor creating an elaborate if mismatched house using every LEGO brick possible. 

“Daddy, it’s Mount Vernon. Look!” Hamilton said.

Washington joined them on the floor even though he knew getting back up would be a challenge. “Good job, boys.” He tickled Hamilton under the chin and patted Lafayette’s back.

“Laffy got me stuff.” Hamilton crawled across the floor and retrieved his presents.

“That was nice of him,” Washington said. “He’s a good brother.”

Hamilton clutched the sea lion against his face. “Yeah.” His mouth remained hidden by the toy but his eyes sparkled as he looked at Lafayette.

“Can you come downstairs?” Washington asked them. “It’s almost time for dinner.”

Hamilton bounced up. “I’ll show Mom.” He waved the stuffed animal and ran out of the room.

“How long do you think this will last?” Lafayette asked as he helped his dad off the floor.

“His therapist says he making progress,” Washington said. He rubbed his knees. “I’m just thankful he’s talking.”

“Is he going to remember he thought he was eleven for a week?”

“I don’t know.” Washington watched his younger son. “I’ve stopped trying to figure out how Alexander’s mind works.”

“It’s definitely taken its share of beatings.”

They looked toward the door at the sound of running footsteps. Hamilton poked his head around the doorframe. “Coming?”

“Right behind you,” Washington said. But he only got a few steps before Lafayette’s words stopped him.

“Do you wish he could stay like this?” Lafayette asked fiddling with the zipper on his hoodie. “He didn’t get a childhood. He’s unencumbered with his past. He’s free.”

“He can’t stay like this and I don’t think he wants to,” Washington said even though he almost wished it himself. “But I think it was his mind’s way of stopping him from another attempted suicide.”

Lafayette swallowed and an ache settled in his shoulders. “He was that bad?”

Washington glanced into the hallway and heard Hamilton’s voice downstairs chatting to his mom. “I think it could have been.” He returned his attention to Lafayette. “He creating a ghost was a cry for help and I missed it. I’m glad he regressed rather than hurt himself, especially if I could have pre—”

“Dad.” Lafayette gripped his father’s shoulder. “With everything you’ve done for Alexander, you cannot blame yourself.” He met Washington’s eyes. “That’s Mother Washington getting into your head again. We’re done with her.”

“You’re a smart man, Lafayette.”

“Duh.” He smiled at Washington. “You’re my dad.”

Washington patted him on the back.

“Daddy!” Hamilton yelled from downstairs. “Laffy! Dinner!”

Throughout dinner, Hamilton chatted easily, giggling and asking questions. Lafayette and Adrienne told stories about Disney World and going to the beach.

They took their leave after the dishes were done. Washington made sure Hamilton showered before bed and later tucked him in. 

“Did you have fun today?” Washington asked.

Hamilton bobbed the sea lion up and down. “You look sad.” His face scrunched up.

Washington stroked his cheek. There were no words to explain how he wished Hamilton could have a redo on his childhood and grow up being this innocent and happy. “Do you know I love you?”

Hamilton grinned. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Washington kissed his forehead. “That will never, ever change. Goodnight, Alexander.”

A yawn escaped as Hamilton burrowed under his blankets and snuggled the toy. “Night, Daddy.”


	89. Chapter 89

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future plans

Sunlight streamed in through the partially open curtains. Dishes clattered together and a dog barked downstairs. Voices talked in cheerful murmurs. Hamilton stretched out in bed and stared at the stuffed sea lion tucked in beside him. What time was it? Better yet, what day? He reached for his phone on his nightstand but the battery was dead. He got up, a sudden pounding in his head from the movement. He blinked and tried to focus his dry eyes. He stepped on a LEGO and cussed loud enough to silence the voices downstairs.

“Are you okay?” Washington called up to him.

“Stepped on a LEGO,” Hamilton shouted back. “What the fuck?”

“Language.” Washington returned to the kitchen and he and his wife stared at each other for a moment. “He’s twenty-three again,” he said at last. “Do we tell him about the past week?”

“Maybe see if he says anything,” Mrs. Washington said.

Hamilton came downstairs a few minutes later in his pajamas and purple hat. “Coffee.” He grabbed a cup and bypassed his parents to get to the coffee pot. “Ugh, how much did I drink at Laf’s wedding?”

His parents shared a worried look.

“Alex?”

Hamilton stopped pouring sugar in his cup. “Huh?”

“That was two weeks ago. Is that the last thing you remember?”

A frown creased his face. “What?”

“It’s March first,” Washington said.

Hamilton blinked rapidly. “What?” His voice came out a soft mumble. He stumbled to the kitchen table and took a seat. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ll go with you to therapy today.” He sat next to his son.

Hamilton shook his head as he stared at the calendar on the wall. “But today is Sunday. Why do I have therapy? How did I lose two weeks?” He met his dad’s eyes. “Is Lafayette okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine.” Washington took his hand. “Things went... crazy after the wedding and you must have blocked the memories. We’ll talk to your therapist.”

Hamilton drew his hand away and tugged his hat over his eyes. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Alexander.” Washington stood and gripped his shoulders. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“What happened?” His body tensed and he sat up straighter and pushed up his hat. “Did Mother Washington shoot me?” He pressed a hand against his hip.

“No,” Washington said and massaged his son’s shoulders. “She passed away.”

“Oh.” Hamilton chewed on his lip. “How? I didn’t...”

“No,” Washington repeated. “But it traumatized you.” He squeezed his shoulders. “Wait until therapy so we can unpack this safely, okay?”

Hamilton nodded and rubbed his eyes. “How’s John?”

“He’s good.” Washington returned to his seat.

Mrs. Washington set Hamilton’s cup of coffee on the table. “What do you want for breakfast, dear?”

Hamilton shook his head. “I can’t eat.” He stared at his drink. “My head hurts.”

“Food will help.” She grabbed bread and popped two pieces in the toaster.

Arms folded on the table, Hamilton rested his head on them and turned to face Washington. “How was the wedding? I remember being anxious.”

“It was nice,” Washington said. “Adrienne is expecting.”

Hamilton closed his eyes. “I kind of remember that. John told me. I think I took too much medication.”

Washington rubbed Hamilton’s back. “Eat something and then get ready to go.”

Hamilton did as told and was soon buckled into the passenger seat of the Cadillac. They remained quiet in the car, Washington not sure what to say, and Hamilton’s head hurting too much to think of words.

Washington spoke to the therapist first to inform him that Hamilton was out of regression and remembered nothing of Mother Washington’s suicide. 

Martin watched Hamilton sit in his usual seat, quiet, head down. “You understand that the brain sometimes wants to protect itself and blocks the memory.”

Hamilton nodded. “But they still hurt when they return.”

“Indeed,” Martin said. “Let’s see if we can find a way to help you that won’t make you hurt later.”

Washington remained in the room during the session to offer information as Martin requested it. 

It didn’t take long for everything to flood back and they both knew the second it did as Hamilton drew himself up tight and his slender body trembled.

Martin talked him through it, explaining what had happened, what Hamilton had told him previously about how he felt. Slowly, Hamilton unfolded himself. “I can do this,” he whispered.

Washington squeezed his hand. “You’ve always been strong.”

Hamilton licked his lips and sucked in a deep breath. “I spent most of my life being broken down and believing I’m shit,” he said, glancing between Washington and Martin. “I’m done with that. I’m not going to live in the past and let it define me. Maybe it’ll be out of spite that I succeed but I will succeed and live the life I want to live and be the person I want to be. I’m not broken.”

Washington hugged him, mostly to keep Hamilton from seeing the tears shimmering in his eyes.

“I know you’ll succeed,” Martin said. “You made it through this crisis and are even stronger than you were before. You have an amazing support system. You have the power do to whatever you want, Alexander.” 

Washington let go of his son. “You know I love you, right?”

Hamilton grinned. “Yeah. And that will never, ever change.”

“Exactly.”

As they drove home, Hamilton was hit with a sudden remembrance. “Dad, didn’t someone call me about a possible interview?”

“Well…”

“It’s too late to call back now, isn’t it?” Hamilton sighed. “Not that I knew what the job would have been anyway. I probably wasn’t qualified. Mr. Prevost only briefly met me and I was a different person then.”

“You can still call him back,” Washington said. “Just apologize and say you understand that the offer might not still be available.”

“I dunno.”

***

The bedroom door opened and Laurens joined Hamilton on his bed. “What’re you watching?” He looked at the video playing on the laptop.

Hamilton couldn’t answer, eyes glued to the screen, shoulder slumped, wondering how that boy could have been him only a few years ago. Facebook that evening had brought up one of his past posts, a video of a sophomore year debate. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and he searched YouTube for the rest. He now wished he hadn’t as he watched that boy on stage, confident, energetic, words spilling out in elegant sentences with no trace of hesitation. The videos didn’t show it, but he knew that boy bounced off the stage just as energetically, no trace of the speech depleting his energy for the week.

“John, what happened?” he asked.

Laurens closed the laptop and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “Life.” He nuzzled Hamilton’s neck. “It’s our biggest antagonist.”

“Yeah, but...” Hamilton pushed the laptop back open and hit play on the video. “I also look like I’m fourteen.”

“Kind of.” Laurens exited out of the website. “Don’t stress yourself out about any of that. Your dad told me how strong you came out of therapy today. That’s amazing, Alex, after all you’ve been through.”

“But before—”

“You were arrogant and a whore.” Laurens grinned at him. “You’re so kind and forgiving now. I’d take the person you are right now over that cocky kid in the video any day.”

“Really?” Hamilton watched him. “Even with all my anxiety and depression? Even when I think I’m eleven?”

“For real, babe.” Laurens kissed him. “I love who you are and who you’re becoming. You’re growing up and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Hamilton nuzzled into Laurens’ chest. “Don’t make me cry, Jack.”

“Sorry.” Laurens stroked his cheek. “I’m an okay person, too, right?” he teased.

A grin stretched across Hamilton’s lips. “Yeah. I love the person _you_ are right now more than who you were in college.” The grin widened. “Have you seen the video of yourself speaking after my epic ‘business casual’ speech? I would not want to be with that boy right now.”

“Ugh, I’m embarrassed just thinking about it,” Laurens said with a groan. “I had really hoped there was no video evidence of it.”

“Do you want to see?”

“No.” But Laurens grabbed Hamilton’s laptop anyway.

They found the video of Laurens stumbling through his speech after Hamilton had purposely flustered him to gain an edge for his team.

“At least you can’t quite tell I was hard,” Laurens said shaking his head. “We were so horny.”

“Right?” Hamilton closed the browser and lay back on his bed. “When do you want to get married, Jack?”

Laurens lay next to him. “I still want to wait a little longer.” He stroked a hand against his boyfriend’s chest. “I’m saving what I can now to get my own place. I want to make sure we can make it, you know?”

Hamilton nodded and snuggled closer to him. “I want to have a job and be, you know, sane enough to live away from Dad. Two years? Or is it dumb to wait that long?”

“I don’t think so.” He wrapped his arms around Hamilton. “That’s just a piece of paper that says I can’t return you without paying.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes.

“But for real,” Laurens continued, “two years will give us a better idea if we’re right for each other and give us time to establish our careers and ourselves. I think it’s a good plan.”

“Good.” Hamilton closed his eyes and his body relaxed against Laurens’. “I’m going to call Mr. Prevost back and see if I can still get that interview. It might not be the job for me but maybe it’ll open up another door that is.”

Laurens kissed his head. “I’m proud of you, Alexander.”

Hamilton tilted his head up. “I’m proud of you, too. Giving a speech in college with an erection. You did go. Very proud.”

Laurens pinched his boyfriend’s nose. “Why do I put up with you?” he joked.

Hamilton climbed on top of him and kissed him. “Because I let you top.”

“Let me, huh?” Laurens tickled him until their shrieks and giggles caught the attention of the dogs and they struggled to fight off Potomac, Potato, and Noodle jumping all over them. “Okay, okay,” Laurens panted. “You win, you’re right. But only if you can catch me.” He jumped off the bed.

“No fair!” Hamilton ran after him, Potato nipping at his ankles.

“Safe!” Laurens shouted from the family room as he grabbed a confused Washington by the shoulder as he sat in his recliner.

“What are you boys up to?” Washington asked.

“Making plans,” Hamilton said as he gasped for breath. Potato growled as she tugged at his jeans, wound up from the game. “Tato.” He picked up the fat Chihuahua who licked his face. “I’m allowed to take Potato when I move out, right?”

Washington looked over at his son. “You’re not moving out.”

“Well, not right now,” Hamilton said, “but someday.”

“Nope,” Washington said. He returned to his iPad. “You’re stuck here.”

Hamilton looked at Laurens. “I’m honestly don’t think he’s teasing.”

Laurens chuckled. “Don’t worry. If I moved in, I’m pretty sure they’d kick you out quickly to get rid of me.” He tugged at Hamilton’s sleeve. “Let’s go for a walk. You need some sunshine.”

“Wear a jacket,” Washington called out.

A smile toyed at Hamilton’s lips. “Yes, Dad.”


	90. Chapter 90

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The perfect thing.

It took all his courage but Hamilton called back Mr. Prevost to see if the interview was still available.

“Yes, I would still love to meet with you,” Mr. Prevost said. “Would tomorrow work for you?”

Hamilton agreed and they set up a time. He knew he should have asked more questions on the phone—like what was he even interviewing for exactly—but his words started to stumble and he knew he could make a better impression in person.

Washington coached him on some questions and answers and helped him get ready. “Be true to yourself,” he reminded his son as he fixed Hamilton’s tie the next day. “Don’t try and pretend you are the same kid Mr. Prevost met briefly a few years ago. You have a stronger sense of who you are now and that is much more impressive.”

Hamilton nodded. “I feel kind of weird.” He tugged at the cuffs of his blazer. “The whole Aaron dating his ex-wife thing. Like does he know I also know Aaron?”

“I doubt it,” Washington said. “Don’t worry about any of that. It’s not your concern.”

“I suppose.” He rubbed a hand against his extra-short hair. “How’s Tench?” He watched his dad in the mirror.

“He’s a fighter,” Washington said. “Come on, you need to go.”

Hamilton drove himself downtown and found a place to park near the Prevost law firm. Burr worked not far away, he knew, and he toyed with the idea of saying hello but _that_ would be weird to tell Burr he’d just come from his girlfriend’s ex-husbands firm where he’d had an interview.

 _Focus_ , he told himself and headed inside the brick building. He told the receptionist who he was meeting and she gave him directions. Upstairs, another receptionist told him to take a seat and she’d let Mr. Prevost know he was there.

Hamilton’s feet tapped on the floor as he waited and he tried to keep his mind on positive things and his confidence up.

“You can go in,” the receptionist said and pointed to the door to the left of her desk.

Hamilton thanked her and opened the door.

“Mr. Hamilton.” Mr. Prevost stood and shook his hand. “I’m glad we could meet. Have a seat.”

Hamilton sat and pressed his back against the chair to keep his posture straight. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, though, and tried not to fidget with them and folded them over the paperwork he’d brought.

“I know I didn’t give you much of a description of any potential job,” Mr. Prevost said. “Mainly because I wanted to chat with you and understand what you might want in a career.” He watched Hamilton who tried to maintain eye contact and a non-worried look on his face. “I understand you’ve opted to forgo law school at the present. Does the law as a general ideology still interest you?”

“Yes, sir,” Hamilton said. He knew it was best to be as upfront as he could about his abilities and limitations. “I’ve been dealing with anxiety and depression and the rigors of law school became more than I could handle at this time. Law still interests me but I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress of a courtroom.”

Mr. Prevost nodded. “Thank you for being honest. A legal file clerk is a decent job to get you in the door and I could see you moving easily to a record clerk. It would be mostly paperwork but you have the background to know how the legal system works. If you want to be a paralegal, you’d be working toward some of those skills.”

Hamilton nodded as he tried to figure out what to say. “I brought my resume.” He handed the papers to Mr. Prevost. “Perhaps that would help you know where my skills might lie.”

“Excellent.” Mr. Prevost looked it over. “I have an opening as a record clerk. Let me call the operations manager and see if he has time to interview you today.”

Hamilton sucked in a deep breath. “Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Prevost made the call and a few minutes later walked Hamilton to a different section of the building. He spoke with the operations manager and handed him Hamilton’s resume.

“Mr. Hamilton studied law under George Washington at college, who is also his adopted father,” Mr. Prevost told the manager. “You’ll find him to be smart and a quick learner.”

Hamilton smiled when the manager glanced at him.

“Alright, come in.”

A grueling hour later, Hamilton left the law office and discarded his blazer in his truck. He plucked at his sweaty shirt but a smile kept tugging at his lips. The operations manager had hired him on the spot at thirty-hours a week for the first six months on probation. If he did the job well and met expectations, he’d be hired for full-time with benefits.

Giddy and a little overwhelmed, Hamilton drove home and pulled into the garage. In the house, he found his mom, Mrs. Madison, and Madison having tea in the front room.  

He grinned at Madison before he asked his mom, “Where’s Dad?”

“At work,” Mrs. Washington reminded him.

“Oh, right. That.” He grinned. “I got a job. Record clerk.”

Mrs. Washington beamed. “I’m so proud of you, Alexander!” She got up and crushed him in a hug. “I’m so happy.”

When she let go, Madison grabbed him. “You’re all grown up now,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, little duck.” Hamilton kissed Madison’s cheek. “I’m scared out of my mind but I know I can do this.”

Madison squeezed his hand tight. “I know you can, too. Thomas will be out of class in a few minutes, text him.”

Hamilton did as he sat on the couch.

Jefferson called him two minutes later. “Oh, my God, Alexander!” he exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, T.” Hamilton grinned. “I have to get through probation, though, then I’ll have a real job.”

“You’ll be fine, bud,” Jefferson assured. “This’ll be a good start for you. It’s a great entry field and that firm is pretty low-key. You won’t have any problems.”

“Thanks. I have to tell John.”

Jefferson chuckled. “Well, I’m honored to hear before your boyfriend.”

“Don’t be too honored, I told James first.”

“Well, of course.”

They said their goodbyes and Hamilton called Laurens.

“Yes!” Laurens shouted. “I knew you could do it. You got this, babe. Celebrate tonight?”

“Yeah,” Hamilton agreed. “Italian?”

“Sure. I’ll pick you up at five-thirty.”

Goodbyes were said and Hamilton poured himself some tea and realized how much he still trembled with adrenaline. He sank back against the couch and sipped his drink. After he calmed down a little, he turned to Madison. “You turn twenty-two next week. I know both of us hate parties but I think we should do something, all of us stupid kids who went to college together. Celebrate that we somehow survived.”

“I like that idea,” Madison said. “We do have a lot to celebrate.”

***

When Washington arrived home, he found Hamilton waiting for him at the door. “Well?”

Hamilton grinned. “I got a job.”

“That’s my boy!” Washington lifted his son in his arms. “I’m very proud of you, Alexander. I know you weren’t sure but I’m glad you went for it. You believed in yourself.”

“You’re right, I did.” Hamilton slipped out of his dad’s arms and met his eyes. “I’m proud of myself, too. I never thought I’d be able to say that.”

Washington kissed his forehead. “You’re not the whole of your struggles. You’re who you want to be.”

“I want to be Alexander Hamilton.”

“Good.” Washington smiled at him. “That’s the perfect thing for you to be.”


	91. Chapter 91

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch with Burr

Since Madison had the most free time, he made it his project to start a group chat and see who of their old college buddies was interested in getting together to celebrate growing up and not failing completely at life. Hamilton, Jefferson, and Laurens, of course, agreed first. Lafayette, Angelica, and Mulligan followed next. Lee agreed but remained pessimistic that anything would fit his work schedule. Burr and Eliza had yet to respond by the end of the day.

“Just coincidence it’s those two who might not come, right?” Hamilton asked Laurens that night. “Nothing to do with me, right?”

Laurens patted his back. “I’m sure Aaron not wanting to come is because of me. You made up with him. Eliza, though, that is probably on you or because she was never friends with any of us anyway.”

“True.” Hamilton stared at his phone. “I’m glad Jemmy didn’t have Maria’s number.”

“She wouldn’t have come anyway,” Laurens said and sprawled out on Hamilton’s bed. “She was so pissed when her debate team didn’t win and she couldn’t go to California and fuck everyone.”

“That’s why she quit?” Hamilton watched his boyfriend. “I figured she was just a sore loser.”

“That’s what Laf told me.” He sat up when he heard Hamilton’s phone ding with a text.

“It’s Aaron,” Hamilton said and pulled up the private message. _I can’t make it to the party but do you want to grab lunch sometime?_ Hamilton showed Laurens the message. “Would you be okay with that?”

“If it’s something you want to do,” Laurens said, “it’s fine with me. But only go if you’re sure you can handle it.”

Hamilton nodded and chewed on his lip as he mulled it over. Sure, some of Burr’s words toward him still stung but he had forgiven his ex-boyfriend and meant it. A lot had gone on and they’d both been in bad places. He condoned Burr’s distance and still missed him. “I can handle it.” He replied, _Yeah, that would great._

Considering how easy it was for them to decide on a date and time, Hamilton doubted Burr couldn’t make the party but he wasn’t about to pressure him and Laurens to make up. It was a relief to know they would not be together. Hamilton welcomed seeing Burr again but the stress of Burr and Laurens together might have been too much.

Once it was determined that Burr or Eliza weren’t joining, Madison posed the question of when and where. Everyone’s schedule was different and it took most of the next day to coordinate for late Saturday afternoon in two weeks. Since Lee dropped out and there was only seven left, they decided to go out for dinner. The consensus was that since Hamilton and Madison had planned this, they could pick the restaurant. 

After a bit of texting back and forth, the two decided to keep it simple and go with Olive Garden since everyone could agree on breadsticks.

***

Hamilton and Burr’s lunch occurred first. Hamilton met him at a small cafe downtown that Burr had picked. Burr been there a few times with Theodosia and knew it would be quiet and they’d be able to enjoy themselves.

Burr waved Hamilton over to his corner table.

“Hey,” Hamilton said.

A smile lit up Burr’s face. “Hi, Alex. It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah.” Hamilton’s own smiled tugged at the corners of his lips. He took a seat and grabbed a menu. “What’s good here?”

“The sandwiches are really good,” Burr said. “Congrats on your job.”

“Thanks.” Hamilton glanced at him. “I know it’s kind of weird that I’m working for your girlfriend’s ex-husband.”

Burr shrugged. “The split was fairly peaceful between them. He didn’t treat her that great, though. Just a heads up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned the menu over. “I don’t see him often, so I should be okay.”

They soon ordered and slipped into silence.

“How’s your job?” Hamilton asked after a few minutes.

“It’s good.” Burr sipped his Dr. Pepper. “Um...” He licked his lips. “Angelica told me about Washington’s mom and everything. I’m really sorry you had to go through all that. You’ve had so much shit thrown at you.”

“Right?” Hamilton swirled his straw in his lemonade. “I’m stronger now. I can feel a difference.”

“Good.” Burr reached his hand over but quickly stopped himself from touching Hamilton. “Sorry.”

Hamilton met his eyes. “We’re good, Aaron. I promise.” He held out his hand.

Burr took it and squeezed it tight for a moment. “How’s Washington?”

Hamilton gave the family updates until their sandwiches arrived. But the food didn’t signal silence. They continued chatting and Burr caught Hamilton up on Angelica and her relationship with Jane and told him more about Theodosia.

“She’s different since the divorce,” he said. “She’s more confident in who she wants to be and less focused on being this business woman.” He popped a stray pickle from his sandwich into his mouth. “I noticed her becoming more relaxed the closer we got. She gets to be who she really is now. It’s awesome to see that happen.”

Hamilton smiled. “She’s good for you, I can tell. You’re maturing. We’re both maturing.”

Burr chuckled. “We’re not yet twenty-five, though. I got time to still be stupid,” he teased.

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “How about not?”

“Right?” Burr took a drink. “It feels better to not be so horny and daft. I want to get older, you know? Thirty sounds way better than twenty.”

Hamilton swallowed a bite. “Ditto. Having my life together would be much better than going wild. I did that long enough and it wasn’t even for that long.”

“Are you and John going to get married?” Burr asked.

“Probably.” Hamilton’s eyes flitted across Burr’s face as he tried to gauge his reaction. “Still another year or two, though. Got to get my career going.”

“Good idea.” His face softened into a smile. “I’m happy for you.”

“Are you going to marry Theo?” Hamilton asked and stuffed in a mouthful.

Burr finished his last bite before he answered. “I’m not sure. It’s not something we’ve discussed. I don’t think I’m quite mature enough to commit properly. She’s thirty-two and knows what she wants out of life. I still need to understand a little more.”

Hamilton patted his hand. “We still have time.”

They took refills on drinks and ordered dessert. They talked more about growing up and getting their lives together, more about work. Burr mentioned Theodosia’s cat and the discussion turned to future pets. 

“I want a few dogs,” Hamilton said. “I don’t think I could do what Mom does with the senior dogs but I would still adopt from a shelter. A few little mutts would be fun.”

“I’d get a big dog,” Burr said, “but I suppose it would have to get along with cats. Need the time and a yard first anyway.”

The conversation turned back to growing up and how different it was from what either expected. 

“When I was fifteen,” Hamilton said, “twenty-three sounded ancient and I figured I’d be this actual grown-up, not just getting my first real job and still living at home.”

“Same.” Burr crunched on an ice cube. “I think that’s where all the pressure in high school comes from. We think we have to have our lives together the second we turn eighteen or twenty. It doesn’t work that way, does it?”

“Apparently not.” Hamilton stopped a yawn. “You’re not boring me, I swear. I’m still adjusting to working thirty-hours.”

“You’re good,” Burr assured. “But it is almost three.”

“Yeah, I should get going, too.”

They stood and each left a tip and walked out together. They stood next to Hamilton’s truck alongside the road.

“Well it was good to see you,” Burr said.

“Yup.” Hamilton shuffled his foot on the ground. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“For sure.” Burr poked Hamilton’s arm. “Hug?”

Hamilton hugged him tight. “Take care of yourself, Aaron.”

“You, too.” Burr touched his cheek as he let go. “See you.”

“Bye.” Hamilton got in his truck. He watched Burr head down the block and tried to sort out his feelings. It wasn’t sadness, maybe nostalgia, he thought. But what for? They’d never exactly had a calm, supportive friendship. Maybe it was a longing to have that with Burr. To be the friends they were supposed to be to each other before feelings, jealousy, romance, and betrayal got in the way. But he knew who Burr was. Burr kept his feelings down and guarded. He would never be a sweet, bubbly friend like Madison; never be the strong supportive friend like Jefferson. He’d be the unreliable friend who could never commit and would back out when things got messy. But that was who Burr had been. They were growing up, Burr was changing, and maybe the friendship he’d always wanted from Burr could be real.


	92. Chapter 92

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monroe

Now that he was feeling better again, Madison returned to spending some nights at Jefferson’s apartment. Although he didn’t return to working as Washington’s assistant, he had the energy to reach out to Monroe and apologized for his long absence.

 _Don’t be sorry!_ Monroe replied. _I get it. Having screwy health sucks._

After texting for a few days, Madison convinced Monroe to visit the apartment on Saturday.

At the agreed upon time, Madison met Monroe outside after he parked and they small talked on the way upstairs.

Monroe twisted his watch and stumbled over his own feet. With the entrance in sight, he tried to back out. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your weekend.”

Madison rolled his eyes and shoved him toward the door.

When the door opened, Jefferson set aside his laptop and got off the bed, already bemused at how awkward a friend Madison had managed to find, although glad they’d been able to pick back up where they left off and understood each other.

Monroe stared at the floor as if he witnessed or expected to witness something private.

“Jacob.” Madison prodded his arm. “This is Thomas.”

Jefferson extended his hand. “Hey, Jacob.”

Monroe shook his hand and mumbled either a hello or a curse, Jefferson couldn’t tell.

“So, I’m not great at entertaining either,” Madison rushed in before silence settled. “But we can have lunch and watch a movie.”

Monroe nodded.

Madison and Jefferson headed the few steps to the kitchen.

Monroe followed and looked around the small studio. “It must be, um, nice to, like, live on your own,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, I enjoy it,” Jefferson said. He looked at Madison, his face clearing saying _what is wrong with your friend?_

Madison shrugged in response. “We do have food, right, T?”

Jefferson opened the fridge. “Leftover pizza or sandwiches.”

“Pizza,” Monroe blurted.

Jefferson chuckled. “Deprived of junk food, are you?”

Monroe blushed.

“Pizza is the best,” Madison said to take the attention off his friend. “Jacob, do you want it warmed or cold?”

“Cold, please.” Monroe fiddled with his glasses.

Jefferson grabbed three plates and dished up the pizza. He handed Monroe a can of root beer and grabbed another for himself to share with Madison since he knew his fiancé would only want a few sips.

“Sorry, we don’t have any chairs,” Madison said as they stood around the counter. “Thomas is avoiding the inevitable.”

“It makes me feel old to think about furniture shopping,” Jefferson grumbled. He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “Jacob, do you like Washington’s classes?”

Monroe bobbed his head. “Very much.” He looked at Madison. “You’ve known him for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Since I was little,” Madison said. “He was our high school teacher, too.”

“Huh.” Monroe sipped his pop. “Um…” He stared at the can. “So, I know I’m underage…”

“You want a beer?” Jefferson asked and moved toward the fridge.

Monroe nodded.

Jefferson glanced at Madison before he opened the fridge.

Madison shrugged. “You sure, Jacob?” he asked. “I don’t want to corrupt you further.”

“I’m so sick of my parent’s restraints,” Monroe said and his gray eyes blazed behind his glasses. “I want to live for once.”

“Oh, boy,” Jefferson murmured to himself. He slid a beer can across the counter. “Jem?”

“What do we have?” Madison asked.

Jefferson pulled out a black cherry hard lemonade. “This?”

“Sure.” Madison pulled himself up on the counter and grabbed the bottle. “You might like this better, too, Jacob.”

Monroe studied the beer can. “Now, I’m a little scared.”

“Beer tastes horrible,” Jefferson said. “Not like alcohol, more like piss.”

“Huh.” Monroe popped the top and sniffed. His forehead wrinkled and he made a face.

“Seriously, it tastes as bad as it smells,” Jefferson continued.

Monroe touched the rim to his lips. He set the can down and pushed it away after a drop touched his tongue. “You’re right.”

Jefferson smirked. He took the open can and chugged.

“Here.” Madison handed his drink over. “You can taste the alcohol but it’s a lot sweeter and goes down easier.”

Monroe sniffed the hard lemonade. His expression was less extreme. He took a sip and swallowed. “Yeah, you can taste the alcohol.” He stared at the bottle and took another sip.

Jefferson got a second one out of the fridge for Madison and twisted off the top.

“How much alcohol is in this?” Monroe asked.

“Five percent,” Jefferson said. “Beer has less. If you drink the whole bottle you’ll probably feel it since you’ve never drank before.”

“How long would it take for me to not be buzzed?” Monroe took another sip.

“If you just drink one, a few hours.” Jefferson opened another beer. “You won’t get hungover on one or drunk, just a little tipsy.”

“My parents won’t notice?” Monroe questioned.

“Depends,” Madison said. “How perceptive are they? I’m sure they’re not expecting you to drink here.”

“They don’t know I’m here,” Monroe said and took a larger swallow. “They think I’m at another friend’s house doing Bible study.”

“Oh, shit.” Jefferson grinned. “This is awesome.”

A smile tugged at Monroe’s lips.

“Jem, forgive me, but I have to corrupt your friend.” Jefferson pulled out a carton of ice cream from the freezer and a jar of Irish cream liqueur.

“What’s that?” Monroe asked pointing to the jar.

“Alcoholic chocolate sauce,” Jefferson explained.

“You guys have a lot of alcohol.” Monroe glanced between them.

A smirk crept up Jefferson’s lips. “Yeah, cause we’re gay.”

Madison groaned. “Thomas, you’re being a jerk. Jacob, you don’t have to try it. You don’t want to end up going home drunk.”

“Maybe I just won’t go home,” Monroe said casually. He reached for the jar but struggled to open the sealed lid.

Jefferson held his hand out for it.

“Nah, I got it.” Monroe switched hands and struggled again.

“Dude, you’re going to strain your hand.”

The satisfying pop of the lid made Monroe grin and Jefferson roll his eyes.

Jefferson dished up the ice cream. He and Madison watched with concern as Monroe poured enough sauce to cover his ice cream and then some. “He’s an adult,” Jefferson whispered to placate himself.

Half his drink gone and a bowl of liqueur covered ice cream later and Monroe got the giggles.

“You might want to slow down,” Madison suggested. He barely recognized his friend as Monroe’s face and posture relaxed. Instead of stammering over his words, tipsy Monroe spoke with more fluidity.

“No, this feels amazing,” said Monroe. “My head isn’t stuffed with worries and rules and fears. I can breathe.” He chugged down another quarter of his drink. “You don’t know how stifling it is to live with my father. We’re not allowed to say the word ‘dumb’ or mention any type of body function. I’m still hazy on the details of what sex actually is. My parents won’t let us use the internet without supervision. I’ve never seen a PG-13 movie.”

“Wow.” Jefferson got another hard lemonade from the fridge and pushed it toward him. He opened his third beer.

“Thomas, he’s had enough,” Madison hissed. “His father will kill him if he goes home like this.”

“James, I’ll be fine.” Monroe touched his arm. “You guys aren’t forcing me to do this. I know what the consequences will be—if my father catches me. He won’t.” He drained his first hard lemonade and opened the second. “What movies do you have?”

Madison shot Jefferson a worried look. Jefferson only shrugged.

“We have Netflix,” Madison said. “Anything you’ve been wanting to see?”

“Something with sex in it.” Monroe giggled.

“We broke him,” Madison hissed to Jefferson. “Well, you broke him, T.” He glared at his fiancé. “You’re darn gay, black ass getting nice white boys in trouble, like always.”

Jefferson struggled not to smile but couldn’t hold it back. “Oh, I know.” He leaned across the counter and kissed Madison’s nose.

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” Monroe said.

“I’m not kissing you,” Jefferson said. He moved toward the TV and turned it on and brought up Netflix. He handed Monroe the remote. “Search and see what you find.”

Monroe looked at Madison. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Here.” Madison headed over to him, took the remote, and browsed through the popular titles. “I don’t know what movies have sex in them. None are gay so we don’t really care. Thomas makes me watch documentaries.”

“On sex?” Monroe asked.

Jefferson ran a hand down his face.

“If it’s an animal documentary,” Madison said with a shrug, “that usually occurs.” He stopped scrolling. “I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“Text Alex,” Jefferson said. “I’m sure he can give you some suggestions.”

Madison shook his head and looked at Jefferson. “I don’t think we need more people involved in this mess.”

“Oh, what one is that?” Monroe pointed to the screen at a romantic, misleading picture for _Titanic._

“You’ve never seen _Titanic_?” Madison asked.

“It’s PG-13, Jem,” Jefferson said. He grabbed the remote and loaded the movie. “It’s got boobs in it for you, Jacob.”

“Cool.” Monroe took another long drink.

“You know I hate that movie,” Madison hissed at Jefferson. “The ending is too tragic.”

“I guarantee he’ll crash before the boat sinks,” Jefferson murmured. “I’m dying to see his reaction to the drawing scene.”

Madison shook his head. He glanced at Monroe sitting on the edge of their bed already entranced. “Why are you pushing him? You don’t know what his father could do to him.”

“He needs this, Jem.” Jefferson pulled Madison in his arms. “Let him unwind for a day. He can spend the night if he needs to.”

“This scares me.” Madison buries his face in Jefferson’s chest. “I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

Jefferson stroked his fiancé’s hair. “We’ll protect him.”

“Are you guys going to watch?” Monroe asked. He avoided looking directly at them as they remained in each other’s arms.

“Yeah.” Jefferson set Madison on the bed. Madison sprawled out at the foot of the bed near Monroe while Jefferson propped himself up with pillows at the head of the bed and rubbed his feet against Madison’s legs.

Monroe watched their playful antics. “How does it work?”

“What?” Madison asked. He noted Monroe’s red face but wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or alcohol.

“Your relationship.” Monroe kept his eyes on his half-empty drink. “Is one of you more dominant? Who does the housework?”

Madison met Jefferson’s eyes.

Jefferson winked. “I got this. James is a bottom,” he explained his voice dripping with enjoyment. “I’m, basically, his sugar daddy so I don’t expect him to keep house or anything. I’m a top. I make the money and take care of him. When we have sex, I pen—”

“He gets it,” Madison snapped and sat up.

Monroe stared at Jefferson wide-eyed. “Is that…normal?”

“Don’t listen to him.” Madison touched his leg. “He’s being dumb. I still live at home so Thomas takes care of his own housework but we’ll share it when we live together.”

“Okay, but what about the top and bottom?” Monroe’s face turned a deeper red but he didn’t shrink from looking at Madison.

Madison shot Jefferson an irritated snarl. “Basically, I never penetrate.”

“Huh.” Monroe took a drink. “I thought you didn’t have sex, though because Thomas is asexual?”

The grin faded from Jefferson’s face and he clenched his jaw.

“Um, well, when we do,” Madison stammered.

“Okay.” Monroe returned his attention to the movie.

Jefferson got off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

Madison hurried after him. “T, I’m sorry.” He followed his fiancé and closed the door.

“You know I don’t like everyone knowing I’m ace,” Jefferson said, eyes hard. “It’s not your business to tell.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Madison stared up at him. “It was a while ago and I don’t remember why I told him.”

Jefferson sighed. “Apology accepted.”

Madison wrapped his arms around him. “You don’t have to be sensitive about it.”

“I just hate that no one gets it.” Jefferson ran a hand through Madison’s hair. “I don’t want the weird looks or someone saying it’s just low libido or I’m doing it wrong or something. I prefer not thinking about it.”

“I don’t make you think about it, do I?” Madison asked glancing up.

“No.” Jefferson traced a finger along the new sharpness of his fiancé’s thin face. “You always make me feel normal.”

“You do the same for me.” Madison stood on his tiptoes and Jefferson bent down to kiss him.

“Now scram.” Jefferson opened the door. “I’ve had three beers and I really have to pee.”

Madison returned to the bed.

 “I can go if I’m a problem,” Monroe said and twisted his watch.

“No,” Madison said. “I’m sorry. I had just told you stuff that wasn’t my business to tell.”

“Oh.” Monroe looked back at the TV. “I’m good at secrets.”

“Thanks.”

Jefferson finished in the bathroom and returned to the bed. His fiancé snuggled up next to him and they both fell asleep.

It was late afternoon when Jefferson woke. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the TV. Some cartoon was playing and he realized Monroe was still over and sitting on the floor. He rolled away from Madison and stretched. “You alright, Jacob?”

Monroe nodded.

“Regrets about drinking?”

Monroe shrugged.

“Sorry if I pushed you,” Jefferson said.

“I did this to myself.” Monroe stood and wiped his swollen eyes. “I should go.”

“Hey, buddy, no tears.” Jefferson headed toward the kitchen and poured two glasses of water. He set one on the counter and pointed to it.

Monroe took the hint and joined him.

“Will you get in trouble?” Jefferson asked. He watched Monroe and had to admit he enjoyed talking to someone not a minimum of five inches shorter than himself. “I don’t want you to get hit. Jemmy and I can help you.”

“I know.” A tear spilled down Monroe’s cheek. “I don’t want to go back.” He fingered the hem of his shirt then lifted it up to show a red scar across his stomach.

“Shit,” Jefferson murmured but found himself more interested in what Monroe wore across his chest but it wasn’t visible enough for him to get a better look.

“That was last summer.” Monroe pulled his shirt down. “I asked my father if I could go to regular camp instead of Bible. He seemed to think by wishing that, that I was turning my back on God and him and was going to throw myself into an immoral, heathen life. I suppose I have.” He took another drink of water. “No offense.”

“Are your siblings safe?” Jefferson asked.

Monroe nodded. “They’re normal.”

Jefferson frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Jefferson rubbed his forehead. “Well, if you’re a hundred percent sure they’ll be unharmed when you leave, here’s what we’ll do.”

Monroe nodded.

Jefferson continued, “Get the stuff you need and can’t live without tonight. We’ll take you somewhere safe. Is the car yours?”

“No.”

“Leave it then.”

“There is nothing I want at that house,” Monroe said and more tears spilled down his cheeks. “My parents have drilled into my head that none of it is really mine. Everything is God’s or my fathers. I don’t even want these clothes I’m wearing.” He plucked at his shirt.

“Keep them on.” Jefferson leaned on the counter. “We’ll go now. You can drop the car off and we’ll take you to Mount Vernon. I promise your father cannot touch you there.”

“What is…Mount Vernon?”

“Washington’s house.” Jefferson left the kitchen and shook Madison awake. “We’re saving Jacob tonight, love, get up.”

Madison rolled over and fell off the bed. “On it.”

Jefferson picked him up and smoothed down his messy hair. “Ready, Jacob?”

“Jay,” Monroe said. “Will you guys call me that?”

“Totally,” Madison said. “Let’s go.”

Monroe drove to his house with Madison and Jefferson following behind in the truck. Monroe parked the car in his parent’s driveway, left the keys inside, and got in the backseat of Jefferson’s vehicle. His earlier tears were gone and his face set in firm resolve.

“All good, Jay?” Madison asked turning in his seat.

“Yes,” Monroe said. He looked away from the house and set his gaze forward.

Jefferson drove the few miles to the Estates and parked in front of Mount Vernon.

“Should we have warned him?” Madison whispered.

“Who? Washington?” Jefferson asked.

Madison nodded.

Jefferson shrugged. “Too late.”

The group got out of the truck and headed up the porch stairs. Barking dogs announced their arrival.

“How many dogs?” Monroe asked.

“Five,” Madison said. “They’re all small.”

“Oh, I love dogs.” Monroe grinned.

Washington answered the door as he scolded the pack and nudged them from the door. “Well, boys, this is a surprise.”

“Yeah…” Jefferson said.

They went inside. Potato growled at Jefferson.

Washington nudged her back. “Spit it out, boys.”

“Jay needs a place to stay,” Madison said.

Washington looked at the tall youth. “Very well. Lafayette’s room has been empty for a while. I’ll let Martha know.” He headed down the hall and called for his wife.

“That’s it?” Monroe asked in disbelief. “Doesn’t he want to know why? Or how long?”

Madison and Jefferson shrugged.

“Washington likes to help,” Jefferson said. “If you want to tell him, you can, he won’t pressure you. But, you’ll have to live with Alexander. His boyfriend John is around a lot, too. They’re a bit much. Speak of the devil.”

Hamilton came out of the kitchen. “So, this is your friend, James?”

“Don’t destroy him, Alex,” Madison warned. “Thomas has already done his fair share.”

“Alright, T!” Hamilton high-fived Jefferson. He turned his attention to Monroe and introduced himself as Mrs. Washington came out of her sewing room.

“This is my wife Martha,” Washington said. “She’ll get you settled.”

Monroe followed Mrs. Washington and the pack of dogs upstairs. He asked their names and Mrs. Washington was more than happy to tell him all about her beloved crew.

Washington, arms crossed against Hamilton’s chest and looked at the other two boys. “Explain.”

“His father,” Madison said.

“Jay has some wicked scars,” Jefferson added.

Madison stared at his fiancé. “Was he undressing for you while I was sleeping?”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “He showed me one on his stomach.”

“The Monroe’s are fanatics,” Washington said. “He’ll be safe here. I’m familiar with his father and I’ll deal with him if need be.”

“Jay didn’t want to take any of his stuff,” Jefferson said.

“We’ll get him settled.” Washington glanced at Hamilton content to remain in his embrace. “Some of Laf’s clothes are still around and will probably fit Jay.”

“I appreciate you taking him in,” Madison said. “I know it’s short notice.”

Washington chuckled. “No kidding, my boy.” He touched Hamilton’s forehead. “You sick, Alex?”

“No.” Hamilton pulled Washington’s arm back around him. “I want to make sure you remember I’m your favorite.”

“You’re also the most expensive,” Washington teased. “You’ll always be the favorite.”

“Yay.” Hamilton ducked under his arms. “I’ll text John to warn him of our new guest since he’s coming over tonight.” He retreated to the kitchen.

“I don’t know how you do it, sir,” Jefferson said. “You’ve done so much for all of us.”

Washington smiled. “It’s what keeps Martha and I going. Although, I’ll admit we long ago thought Alexander was the last.”

“Because I was perfect,” Hamilton called out from the kitchen.

Jefferson shook his head. “You’re okay with this, though?”

“Jay’s an adult,” Washington said. “It won’t be a problem.”

Mrs. Washington came halfway down the stairs. “George, we have a problem.”


	93. Chapter 93

Washington, Jefferson, and Madison hurried upstairs.

“What is it?” Washington asked.

Mrs. Washington led them to the end of the hall to Lafayette’s old room and pushed open the door. Crying erupted from the en-suite bathroom.

Monroe sat on the floor wailing and pulling at his hair and clothes.

Washington looked at his wife as he knelt down.

“I don’t know what happened,” she said, frantic. “We were talking about the dogs and he asked to use the bathroom and…”

“Jay, take a breath,” Washington soothed.

“I want to talk to James,” Monroe squeaked out.

Washington ushered everyone out and Madison sat on the floor.

Once the door was closed, Madison stroked Monroe’s arm. “What happened?”

“I don’t have my pills.” Monroe pressed his hands to his face.

“What…what pills?” Madison watched him with worried eyes. He’d known Monroe had some sort of ailment but had never discussed it.

“Hormones.”

“Jay…”

Monroe sucked in a shaky breath. “I was born intersex,” he choked out and kept his face in his hands. “My parents chose to make me a boy, but when puberty began to hit, more feminine features developed instead of male. I need my testosterone.” He buried his head into his knees groaning. “I’m gonna die.”

“Jay, it’s okay.” Madison rubbed his back. “We’ll get your pills. Don’t fret. Can you tell Washington?”

Monroe shook his head.

“Do I have permission to tell him?”

“Yes,” Monroe whispered. “But just him and Mrs. Washington.”

“Okay.” Madison got to his feet and slipped out of the bathroom. He found the others in the hallway and beckoned to the Washington’s.

“He needs his medication at home,” Madison said and explained about his hormone treatments.

“Did you ask him if he needs them,” Washington said, “or if he’s been brainwashed into thinking he needs them?”

“I don’t think he’s capable of making that rationale right now,” Madison said.

“True.” Washington took a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

“George…” Mrs. Washington grabbed his arm. “Their son ran away, what’re you going to say?”

“That if they withhold an adult’s medication, I’ll call Jay a lawyer. I know some pretty damn good ones.” He left and hurried downstairs to his car.

Madison returned to the bathroom and consoled Monroe for a very long hour until Washington came back.

He opened the bathroom door and handed Monroe a bag.

Monroe pulled out several pill bottle and swallowed the pills dry. “What did they say?” he asked in a shaky voice.

“God speed and don’t return,” Washington said.

 Monroe took a steadying breath. “Father hated me the most because I’m broken. The devil lives in me, that’s what he always said.”

“You’re not broken,” Washington said. He sat on the edge of the tub. “Those pills, Jay, if you ever want to stop taking them, you have our support.”

Monroe looked at the bottle in his hand. “I’ve never even considered it.” He turned it over and listened to the pills rattle. “My father made me so afraid.”

“Do you feel right in your skin?” Madison asked. “You know I wear skirts sometimes. I always wear makeup and keep my hair long. I like embracing my feminine side although I still, mostly, identify as male.”

“I… don’t know.” Monroe turned the bottle over again. “I’ve always been afraid to be anything but what my father told me to be.”

Madison touched his arm. “No one will tell you who you are now. You get to be you.”

Monroe nodded slowly. “That’s a very new and scary idea.” He put the bottle back in the bag. “I’m not sure where to begin.” He rubbed at his chest and picked at something beneath his shirt. “It would be nice not to have to wear a binder.”

Madison glanced up at Washington.

“Your father made you wear a binder?” Washington asked.

Monroe nodded. “I have, like, chubby guy boobs even though I’m skinny. My father didn’t like it.”

“You don’t have to wear it anymore, Jay.” Washington patted his shoulder. “You do what you need to do and we’ll guide you however we can.”

“I want it off,” Monroe said at once. He tugged off his shirt, undid the Velcro on the binder, and tossed it aside. He sighed and pulled his shirt back on.

Washington squeezed his shoulder. “Whoever you feel like you are inside is who you get to be.” He stood and offered a hand to Monroe.

Monroe accepted his assistance and stood. “Thank you.”  He looked at Madison. “For everything.”

***

Monroe settled in slowly and spent most of his time in his room except for college. Washington picked up the cost for the rest of the semester and the next as his father was quick to withdraw his payments. Mrs. Washington made sure he’d still have access to his medication refills while he decided what he wanted to do and helped him look into a different doctor and therapy. As they took on their new charge, the Washington’s congratulated themselves on never having to worry about becoming empty nesters.

On one of the rare occasions Monroe ventured downstairs in the evenings, Hamilton and Laurens were quick to pester him.

“All settled in?” Hamilton asked. He dragged Monroe toward the couch and made him sit between himself and Laurens. “If you need anything, we’d be happy to take you shopping.”

Monroe glanced between the couple. “No, thanks.”

“What, you think we’d embarrass you?” Hamilton chuckled.

“Yes.”

“He’s not wrong,” Laurens said.

“True.” Hamilton nudged Monroe. “We don’t bite, I promise. Want to watch a movie with us? Have some popcorn?”

“I have homework,” Monroe said.

“One night won’t kill you.” Hamilton grabbed the remote and gave it to Laurens. “Find something while I make popcorn.”

“What do you want to watch?” Laurens asked as he pulled up Netflix. “I heard you’ve been deprived of most entertainment.”

“I never finished watching _Titanic_ ,” Monroe said in a soft voice.

“Sorry, Alex is afraid of that movie,” Laurens said. “He came to the US on a boat that caught fire and he doesn’t do boat movies.”

“Ah, no problem,” Monroe said. “Where is Alexander from?”

“The Caribbean. Weird, huh? He’s super white.”

Monroe shrugged. “I would like to travel. Do you think Alexander would ever go back?”

“No.” Laurens looked at Monroe. “He doesn’t like talking about it in general. It wasn’t a good place for him. His family was very impoverished.”

“I see.” Monroe looked at the TV. “What movie is that?”

“ _Men in Black_ , you’ll like it.”

Hamilton soon returned with two bowls of popcorn and drinks tucked under his arm. He handed out snacks and sat next to Laurens.

They behaved themselves while the food was available but once the popcorn was gone, Hamilton wrapped his arms around Laurens and kissed his neck.

“I’ve never been kissed,” Monroe said and gave them quick looks.

“I’m more than willing,” Hamilton said.

Laurens elbowed him in the ribs.

“No, no, that’s okay,” mumbled Monroe. He stared at the TV.

“If you’re sure…”

“Positive.”

“I’ll take that kiss,” Laurens said.

Hamilton pecked him on the lips. “I’ll do better tonight.”

“So which one of you is the top?” Monroe asked. “Thomas explained it to me.”

Laurens smirked. “Me.”

“I’m a switch, though,” Hamilton added. “John occasionally lets me be on top.”

“Huh,” Monroe said. “Not what I expected.”

Laurens frowned. “Really? The tops are usually the more dominant one. You think Alex is dominant?”

Monroe nodded. “You’re more feminine, John. I mean, you shave and take more care with how you dress. Alexander looks like he just rolled out of bed most days.”

“It’s true,” Hamilton said. “You should let me be on top more often, John.”

Laurens snorted. “Not a chance.”


	94. Chapter 94

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storm warning

Jefferson looked up from his desk at work to see Madison standing in the doorway wringing his hand together. “What’re you doing here?” Jefferson stood. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” Madison picked at his cuticles. “My parents are throwing an anniversary party. Not everyone knows you’re my boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” Jefferson reminded him.

Madison managed a smile. “Yeah, that.” His face fell again. “What’re we supposed to say?”

“I say ‘you must be Aunt Sally. I’m James’ fiancé Thomas. It’s nice to meet you’ and hopefully you swoop in and ask her about her job or kids or whatever. No one is going to care.”

“Remember how my grandmother reacted?” Madison said as he twisted a lock of hair.

“She was pissed I was black,” Jefferson reminded him. “She didn’t give a shit about me being a guy.”

“Well, it wasn’t much better with your grandmother.”

Jefferson chuckled.

“It’s not funny!” Madison exclaimed. “You only showed her a picture and she thought I was a girl. You never corrected her.”

“Yeah, well, my cousins were laughing hysterically and she can’t hear, to begin with.” Jefferson shrugged. He reached toward Madison and stroked his cheek. “I’m sure she figured it out.”

“I remember you telling me that she said ‘James’ was a very weird name for a girl.” Madison pouted and pushed Jefferson’s hand away. “I don’t think she knows.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jefferson soothed. “Don’t you have most of your relatives on Facebook? You posted our relationship status. You have our wedding countdown on there.”

“The conservative family members aren’t on Facebook,” Madison said and chewed on his nail.

“Then don’t talk to those people.” Jefferson took Madison’s hand and kissed his fingers. “I’m not worried.”

Madison took a deep breath. “Okay. Everything will be fine.”

“Good boy.” Jefferson kissed his head. “Can you stay a minute? I only have a few things left to finish.”

Since he was waiting for his father to finish a meeting with Reynolds, Madison settled himself on Jefferson’s lap and rested his head against his fiancé’s chest.

Jefferson returned a few emails and organized the stack of papers on his desk. When a knock sounded on the office door, he realized Madison had fallen asleep, and how much trouble he’d be in depending on who walked into his office. He couldn’t get up to answer the door and he grimaced as the doorknob turned.

He sighed in relief to see Hamilton. “What’re you doing here, Alexander? Is it ‘bother Jefferson day’ or something?”

Hamilton rolled his eyes and stepped into the tiny office and closed the door. He nodded toward Madison. “Nice perk you have there.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I was delivering papers and wanted to see your office. Also—” He tossed an invitation on the desk. “I got invited to James’ parents anniversary party. I don’t know what to do?”

“RSVP that you’re going?” Jefferson said.

“Yeah, but what.” Hamilton gestured vaguely.

“What do you mean ‘what?’?”

“Parties and I don’t mix. What if something happens?”

“Drink,” Jefferson said. “You do okay then.”

Hamilton chewed on his fingernails. “My invitation says I can bring a plus one. I can invite John, right? I don’t feel sophisticated enough for this party.”

Jefferson shook his head. “You know Jim and Eleanor. Stop freaking out.”

“It’s just—I dunno.” He ran a hand through his slowly growing hair. “What if something happens? Am I supposed to get them a gift?”

“Your presence is always a gift enough,” teased Jefferson as he tried to get Hamilton to lighten up. “We’ll be with you, bud. You can do this.”

Hamilton nodded and pointed at Madison. “He can sleep through anything.”

“Nah, he’s been faking it since you came in.”

In response, Madison fought to stop a grin.

“You could have offered your opinion,” Hamilton told him, annoyed. “You think it’s okay if I bring John?”

Madison rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter. “Probably. But don’t act gay with each other. I have some conservative relatives.”

Hamilton snorted. “They’ll be in for a shock then.”

“Yeah,” Jefferson said and nuzzled Madison’s face. “We’ve had the discussion already. I’m showing up in the most flamboyant thing I can find and I’m going to talk in a high voice and squeal a lot.”

Madison’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I honestly don’t think you’re teasing. Your family has its conservatives, too. You’d be anxious about your family having a big party.”

Jefferson rested his chin on Madison’s head. “I know. That’s why I’m giving you crap.”

Madison shook him off. “How’s your job going, Alex?”

“Not bad,” Hamilton said. “Some days are boring but I know what I’m doing pretty well. I’m glad it’s only thirty hours right now. I forgot how tiring a new schedule is.”

Madison slipped off Jefferson and hugged Hamilton. “I’m glad.”

 “Me, too, little duck.” He kissed Madison’s head. “I gotta go.” He waved to them both.

“I have never understood your relationship with him,” Jefferson commented. He stood and stretched. “Do you need to wait for your dad or can I take you?”

“You can,” Madison said. “Alex and I have a mutual understanding.”

“Of what?”

“Good question.”

They headed down the hall and downstairs.

“Where am I taking you?” Jefferson asked once out the front door.

“Can I spend the night?” Madison asked.

“Babe, you can live with me,” Jefferson said with a smile.

Madison smiled back. “Not yet. What’re we having for dinner?”

“I think there is pizza in the freezer,” Jefferson said. He unlocked his truck and they got in.

“That works,” Madison said.

Jefferson drove the short distance to his apartment and parked. The wind tugged at the truck door’s as they got out. They hurried inside the building.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Jefferson asked as they entered his apartment.

Madison took off his shoes and headed for the bed. “Movie night.”

Jefferson smiled. “Okay.” He pulled a pizza out of the freezer and turned on the oven.

Twenty minutes later, Jefferson took the pizza out and filled two plates. He joined Madison on his bed and they ate snuggled under the covers. He checked his phone when an alert went off. “Storm warning,” he said.

Madison cuddled closer to him.

 

Hamilton drove to Mount Vernon, his thoughts on Laurens, and parked in the driveway. He got out and the object of his affection waved to him from the front porch. Hamilton headed up the front steps and joined him on the porch swing. He sat close so that their shoulders and hips touched.

“Do you want to go with me to James’ parents anniversary party?” He reached his arm around Laurens and played with his curly ponytail.

“Are you asking me to be your date?” Laurens asked as he slipped his hand between Hamilton’s legs. “Like make our relationship super official and public?”

“Something like that.” Hamilton moved his legs further apart.

Laurens whispered in his ear, “Yeah, definitely.”

Hamilton smiled. He turned to meet Laurens’ mouth but Washington’s Cadillac pulled up the driveway.

Washington parked in the garage but exited out the front to join the boys. “You should park in the garage, Alexander,” he said, “It’s supposed to storm tonight.”

Hamilton moved away from Laurens and returned to his truck.

Washington looked at Laurens. “I’m sure Martha would appreciate some help getting dinner made.” Monroe had a late class that night followed by group therapy and wouldn’t be home until late.

Laurens followed him inside.

Hamilton parked his truck and closed the garage. He entered the house through the connecting door and went into the kitchen. He spotted Laurens at the sink peeling potatoes. “I can help, too,” he told Mrs. Washington.

Mrs. Washington fought a grimace. “I think we’re good, dear,” she said as flashbacks to Hamilton burning food and pots, breaking dishes, and cutting himself zipped through her mind.

“I could set the table,” Hamilton offered.

“Why don’t you take this to Dad?” She handed him a glass of wine. 

Hamilton took the glass and headed out of the kitchen and down the hall to Washington’s study.

Washington stood at his desk going through his briefcase to clear out the clutter.

“Here, Dad.” Hamilton handed him the glass.

“Thanks, son.” Washington took a sip and set the glass on a coaster.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and Hamilton shot a fearful look out the tall windows. He hunched his shoulders as lightning flashed.

Washington pointed to his wine. “You need that more than I do.”

Hamilton gulped several mouthfuls.

After dinner, the family gathered to watch TV. Storm warnings flashed across the screen interrupting the show.

Noodle and Potato huddled in Mrs. Washington’s lap, apprehensive as they sensed the weather change. A clap of thunder rumbled and made Potato bark. Lightning lit up the backyard.

Hamilton moved closer to Laurens. “How bad of a storm is it supposed to be?” he asked Washington.

 “Not a hurricane,” Washington assured. “It’ll pass quickly.” But the words were barely out of his mouth before thunder shook the house and lightning flashed. The power went out a moment later.

Laurens was first to grab his phone and turn on the flashlight. He shined it on Hamilton’s pale face and saw him tremble. “It’s okay,” he soothed.

Washington got the flashlight on his phone figured out and used it to lead himself into the kitchen for more flashlights. One of the dogs barked and Mrs. Washington consoled them and called their names.

“Potato?”

Laurens shined his light around the room for the fat Chihuahua.

“There she is.” Hamilton pointed to the far corner where the little dog wedged herself between a bookcase and an end table. He moved toward the dog and spoke to her.

Washington set a lantern on the coffee table in the family room as they watched Hamilton coax the dog into his arms.

“You found someone more afraid than you are,” Laurens said with a smile.

Hamilton returned to the couch and cradled the dog.

“Good job, Alex,” Mrs. Washington praised. The other four dogs sat on or near her.

Rain lashed the windows and thunder cracked followed by bright flashes. Hamilton kept his fear at bay with his attention on Potato in his lap and Laurens pressed close to him.

The power remained out prompting everyone to go to bed early.

Distant thunder rumbled as Hamilton and Laurens got in bed. They lay in the dark, aware of the silent house without the usual unnoticed hum of electricity.

“We could fuck,” Laurens suggested. “It’s barely nine o’clock.”

“Do you think you’re good enough to take my mind off the storm?” Hamilton questioned.

“I’m willing to try.”

Hamilton tugged at Laurens’ shirt in the dark. “That’s why I love you.”


	95. Chapter 95

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bar fight

Jefferson and Madison slept late Sunday morning, snuggled warm and cozy next to each other. Madison’s ringing phone woke them from their drowsy slumber.

“Ignore it,” mumbled Jefferson his arm around Madison.

Madison moved his head off Jefferson’s chest. “I can’t.” He sat up and retrieved his phone from under his pillow. “It’s Mom.” He answered the phone with an uncertain hello as if expecting bad news.

“Are you two coming over for dinner tonight?” Mrs. Madison asked.

“Yes,” Madison said. He lay back down and snuggled into Jefferson’s warmth. “What time?”

“Five o’clock.”

Jefferson moved his hand creeping down Madison’s side, tickling him.

Madison swatted his hand. “Okay.”

Jefferson tried again and managed to get a stifled giggle out of him as he attempted to ask his mom a question. “We’ll see you tonight,” he finished and hung up. “You’re annoying,” he told Jefferson.

“I could have been a hundred times worse,” Jefferson retorted. He stretched and got out of bed. “You want to make breakfast?”

“More like lunch,” Madison replied. “You know I can’t cook.”

“Have you ever tried?” Jefferson pulled back the curtains blinding himself with sunlight.

“No,” Madison admitted. 

“Scrambled eggs are easy.” He walked the few feet to the fridge and pulled out eggs and milk. “Come here, babe.”

Madison dragged himself out of bed and slipped on Jefferson’s shirt. He stood at the kitchen counter and opened the egg carton.

Jefferson grabbed a mixing bowl while Madison cradled an egg.

He cracked it hard against the bowl and shell and all splattered into the bowl.

“A little gentler,” Jefferson said as he fished out the eggshell. He handed Madison another egg.

This one he tapped gingerly until it cracked a tiny bit.

“Haven’t you ever made cookies?” Jefferson asked as he stood behind Madison.

“Sure,” Madison said, “but I have little siblings to do the work. I actually hate touching eggs.”

Jefferson brushed his fiancé’s hair back. “You’re doing great.”

Goopy egg yolk, egg whites, and shell covered the counter by the time Madison cracked eight eggs. Jefferson instructed him with vague directions on how much milk, salt, and pepper. Madison whisked up the eggs vigorously while Jefferson turned on the stove and got out a pot.

Once Madison poured in the eggs, he took the wooden spoon Jefferson handed him. His fiancé remained behind him and Madison rested his small feet on top of his.

 “Keep stirring,” Jefferson instructed.

Madison did and watched the liquid shape into fluffy masses. “This is kind of fun.”

Jefferson wrapped his arms around Madison’s shoulders. “Yeah.” He kissed the top of his head.

When the eggs were finished, they made toast with strawberry jam and enjoyed their breakfast in bed watching cartoons.

The day past quickly and the boys headed to Montpelier for dinner.

***

Jefferson returned by himself to his apartment around eight. He didn’t like being away from Madison but there was some relief to be alone. He hoped once they fully lived together that that feeling of needing to entertain Madison would vanish. Right now, he felt obliged to do everything with Madison when he was over, despite having stuff he needed to get done. 

He tidied up and vacuumed the house. He tried to call his eldest sister for advice on what to do with his hair but she didn’t answer. He washed it as he normally did and fell into bed around ten-thirty, right when Angelica decided to call him.

“I need your help, T,” she said her voice barely audible above the background ruckus.

“Where are you?” Jefferson asked and stopped a yawn.

“A bar.”

“Why in the wo—”

“Please, come get us,” Angelica interrupted and gave him the address.

“Of course.” Jefferson got out of bed and changed into jeans. “Who’re you with? Is there somewhere safe you can wait?”

“I think so. I’m with Jane.”

“I’ll be there in ten. Stay on the line.” He hurried downstairs and out to his truck while he tried to get more information out of Angelica.

She would only tell him that they were both okay. 

He ignored speed limit signs and soon pulled in front of the bar. “I’m here.”

“We’ll be right out,” Angelica said her voice suddenly rising with panic.

Jefferson realized why as soon as he made the mistake of getting out of his truck. Two men followed Angelica and Jane and jumped him before he could react.

The first man smashed a fist into him and Jefferson fell against his truck as he took punch after punch to his torso. He fought to push the man off but a strike to the knee took his down. Kicks rained upon him until he managed to scoot under his truck, grateful for the high clearance or he’d have no chance of escape. However, Angelica’s scream drew him out and he punched the man grabbing at her and kicked at the other one reaching for Jane.

Jefferson wasn’t sure how, but he managed to get the passenger door open and shove Angelica and his sister inside. She locked the doors while Jefferson kept the two men back.

The sound of sirens cleared them away and Angelica let Jefferson in the truck. He relocked the doors and tried to catch his breath and still his racing thoughts. He couldn’t remember ever being in a fight like that and didn’t fancy doing it again.

“We should flag down the cops,” Angelica said as she trembled and huddled against Jane.

Jefferson put the truck in gear. “No.” The last thing he wanted was to put himself in a position to be arrested. He squeezed his sister’s hand before he pulled back into the street and headed for home. “How did this happen?” He glanced at the women, his face tight with concern beneath the swelling and bleeding lip.

“Two women on a date,” Jane said, “men can’t handle that. They think every woman should be theirs to flirt with.”

“That’s why I called you,” Angelica said. “I knew they wouldn’t leave us alone. I’m sorry they attacked you.” She reached around Jane to pat his arm with a shaking hand.

“It would have been worse for you two,” Jefferson said. He looked at them as he stopped at a stoplight. “You’re both okay?”

Both assured him they were.

“You’ll stay with me tonight.” Jefferson pulled into his parking space.

They went inside and in the lights of the apartment, the girls winced at the sight of Jefferson’s face.

 “You look like hell,” Angelica said. “I feel really bad.”

“Don’t,” Jefferson said as he headed into the bathroom. He cringed when he turned the light on and saw his bloody, puffy face. His stomach felt worse, though, as he realized how much it hurt to breathe. “I would do anything to protect both of you.” He wet a washcloth, wiped at his face, and flinched.

Angelica joined him and took the towel. She waited until the water warmed and cleaned the blood off his face. “Let me see your chest.”

Jefferson winced as he tried to pull off his shirt as his shoulder panged from the movement. Bruises covered his torso and a scrape ran up his back. “I’m not sure what I’m going to tell Jemmy.”

“Nothing,” Jane said. “It’ll scare him.” She met her brother’s eyes and they both knew that while Madison had the advantage of being white, the rest of his appearance was fair game for a hate crime and he had little chance of protecting himself. He didn’t need to know there was a real chance someone would attack him again. He got lucky once in high school that the assault hadn’t turned to rape but there was no way he could take down an adult or more than one person.

Jefferson winced as he moved his arm. “Yeah, but he’s going to notice the bruises.”

“Make something up,” Angelica suggested. “Do you have any ice packs?”

 “No,” Jefferson said, “but there is ice in the freezer.”

Angelica filled several baggies with ice and wrapped them in towels. 

Jefferson returned to the bed he’d been forced to leave over an hour earlier and relished the soothing cold. But almost at once, he got up. “What am I thinking? You guys take my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, you saved our lives,” Jane said. “Plus you’re in pain and need something comfortable to sleep on. We’ll be fine on the floor.”

“No,” Jefferson argued. “It’s dumb for two people to sleep on the floor and only one to sleep on the bed. I’ll be fine.” He retrieved the extra blankets he kept on hand since his fiancé was always cold and made a comfortable spot on the floor.

Angelica and Jane knew it would be fruitless to argue further and got in bed.

No one slept much. It was already after midnight and the women were too fraught with adrenaline to relax. The two men had started hitting on them right away and both regretted not suggesting they leave then. It could have ended so much worse than Jefferson getting beat up but that was still more than ever should have happened.

Pain kept Jefferson awake, some physical, most of it mental over the knowledge that someone would want to hurt his best friend and his sister because they were lesbians. It brought back too much anguish from when Madison had been assaulted for wearing a skirt. He knew he and his friends were lucky that they didn’t experience shit like that more regularly but what had happened was too much already.

After a few hours of restless sleep, Jefferson drove the women to Angelica and Burr’s apartment. Burr was gone, having spent the night at Theodosia’s condo. Jane and Angelica worked together to cover the bruises on Jefferson’s face and minimize the appearance of the cuts on his lip and cheek to help him avoid constant questions.

“If I can keep Jem off me for a few days,” Jefferson said, “he won’t need to know.”

“Good luck,” Jane said and hugged her brother. She kissed Angelica goodbye since she needed to get home in time for her afternoon shift at the hospital.

At work, the morning dragged by slowly. On his lunch break, Jefferson contemplated calling Madison and explaining what happened but he chickened out and texted him instead.

_How’s your day going?_

_Good._ Madison texted back after a few minutes. _Are you busy?_

 _A little._ Jefferson sent the message while hating himself for not spitting out any truth. The more he dragged this out the more hurt Madison would feel when he found out the truth. And he would eventually, Jefferson knew, no matter how hard he tried.

 _Can you come over for dinner?_ Madison asked.

Jefferson closed his eyes and hoped for a plausible excuse to come to him in the next few seconds before Madison read into his lengthy pause. He was exhausted and achy. 

 _Of course,_ he typed and received a smiley face in response. 

Angelica returned from lunch and sat at her desk. “Did you tell James?”

“No.” Jefferson set his phone aside. “Do you have your makeup? I agreed to have dinner at his folk’s house.”

“Yeah, hon.” Angelica gave a gentle smile. “I’ll make you look pretty. He’ll notice your lip, though.”

“I’ll think of something.” Jefferson carefully stretched his aching shoulder. “I don’t want him scared, you know?”

“I understand.”

The rest of the day continued to drag. A half hour before they clocked out, Angelica reapplied the makeup to Jefferson’s bruised face, careful to make it look as natural as possible.

“Are you doing okay?” Jefferson asked.

“Mostly angry, I think,” Angelica said. “Angry that those guys couldn’t take no for an answer and went after you.” She finished applying the makeup. “Jane is so strong; I really like her.”

A smile tugged at Jefferson’s sore lip. “I know you do. She really likes you, too.”

After they clocked out, Jefferson dropped Angelica off at her apartment and headed toward the Estates. 

Madison waited for him outside on the porch. 

Jefferson parked and got out. He stopped on the lowest step of the porch to make Madison close to his own height.

“I made something I want to show you,” Madison said. He reached for Jefferson’s hands and pulled him closer.

Jefferson obliged and climbed the stairs.

“You’re quiet,” Madison commented.

“I’m pretty tired,” Jefferson replied.

Madison stopped inside the house and studied Jefferson. “What happened to your lip?”

Jefferson ran a hand through Madison’s long, silky hair and most of the truth spilled out. “Angelica and Jane got themselves into some trouble last night and I had to rescue them,” he half-lied. “I’m fine, just a few bruises.”

Madison’s brow wrinkled. “Are they okay?”

Jefferson continued stroking his hair. “Yeah. Show me what you made.”

Madison’s concern vanished and he hurried into the kitchen. He proudly pointed to the lopsided chocolate cake on the counter. “No help.”

A smile stretched Jefferson’s lips and tugged at the cut. “That looks amazing, Jemmy.”

Madison beamed. “I sent a picture to Alex and he wanted me to bring him a piece but I said you had to see it completed first. I’ll take him some tomorrow, assuming it’s edible.”

“I’m sure it’ll be the best.” Jefferson kissed Madison’s head.

“If you’re tired, we can have dinner alone early,” Madison said. He touched Jefferson’s arm and rested his head against his chest.

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” Jefferson said rubbing Madison’s back and enjoying his closeness despite the mild pain of him pressing into the bruises.

“I’m the one being an inconvenience.” Madison tilted his head back. “You could have told me you were hurt and tired.”

Jefferson leaned down to kiss him but stopped at the sting of his lip. “I like seeing you. Can we have dessert first?”

Madison agreed at once and grabbed a knife to cut the cake. Jefferson got plates and forks. He poured two glasses of milk while Madison served the cake. They took their food and drink into the formal dining room where they were guaranteed to be left alone.

“This is really good, Jem,” Jefferson praised after a large mouthful. “Did you make it from scratch or a box?”

“A box,” Madison admitted.

“But you had to crack eggs.” Jefferson grinned. “I’m proud of you.”

Madison smiled. “I want to learn to cook more things.”

“I bet Mrs. Washington would love to show you some recipes.”

Madison’s face lit up. “That would be fun! I’ll ask Alex to ask her and maybe she can show me tomorrow when I bring over cake.”

Jefferson smiled at him and reached across the table to touch his arm. “I’m so proud of you. You’re growing up.”

 Madison grinned and managed to spill cake down his shirt.

“Slowly,” Jefferson amended.


	96. Chapter 96

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemmy makes dinner

Mrs. Washington welcomed Madison inside the next afternoon as she hushed the dogs and nudged them away from the door. “You look lovely, sweetheart,” she cooed and admired his blue skirt.

Madison smiled and handed her the cake he’d promised Hamilton.

“He’ll be excited,” she said. “What do you want to learn to cook, dear?”

“Pancakes,” Madison said. “Thomas really likes yours.”

Mrs. Washington ushered him into the kitchen. The dogs followed eagerly, tails wagging. She got down a recipe book and gathered ingredients from various cupboards and the fridge.

Madison paged through the book for more ideas.

“The trickiest part of pancakes is knowing when to flip them,” Mrs. Washington explained. “Page 85, dear.”

Madison turned to the pancake recipe.

“The rest is just a matter of mixing ingredients. Go ahead and get started, duckling.”

Madison added all the ingredients and mixed the batter. Mrs. Washington turned on the stovetop and greased a pan.

“Add a nice, big spoonful,” she told him. “We’ll do one at a time to start with.” She handed Madison a spatula. “Wait until you see bubbles.”

Madison stood in front of the stove and watched the pancake batter. He flipped when he saw bubbles and half the pancake oozed out.

“It might not look pretty,” Mrs. Washington said, “but it’ll still taste fine.”

Madison grew no better at flipping the cakes neatly but he only burned one. He filled a plate with oval and crooked pancakes.

“Something smells good,” Hamilton declared as he came in the side door. The dogs rushed to bark a delayed warning. He smiled at Madison. “Of course, it’s Jem. Hey, little duck.”

Madison returned his smile. “Hi, Alex.”

“Did you bring cake? I’m starving.”

Madison pointed to the covered plate.

Mrs. Washington poured him some milk and dished up a slice for him.

Hamilton sat at the kitchen counter and dove into his snack. “This cake is awesome, Jem.”

Madison smiled, cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

“Are you parents ready for their party this weekend, Jemmy?” Mrs. Washington asked.

“I believe so,” Madison said as he finished the last pancake. “I wish it was at home instead of the country club.”

“This’ll be less work for your parents, dear.” Mrs. Washington patted his cheek.

“I suppose that’s true.” Madison looked through the recipe book again. “What else could I make for dinner that would go with pancakes?”

“We can do some fried potatoes,” Mrs. Washington said, “and we’ll add a side of bacon and eggs.”

“Little duck is growing up,” Hamilton said and almost looked teary-eyed.

“I’m twenty-two,” Madison reminded him.

Hamilton pushed his empty plate and glass aside and reached over the counter to ruffle Madison’s hair. “Holy crap, your hair is soft.”

Madison grinned. “I know.”

“Focus, dear,” Mrs. Washington interrupted. “We don’t want Dad’s dinner delayed.”

Madison grinned at Hamilton and moved to the sink to peel potatoes under Mrs. Washington’s watch.

Although somewhat annoyed at another night of not being able to go straight home, Jefferson was eager to taste Madison’s first meal and parked in the Washington’s driveway. The house smelled good, which was a decent start. Potato raced at his ankles as he came through the front door and snarled. Jefferson ignored her and dragged her along as she latched onto his pants.

“Potato!” Mrs. Washington scolded and picked up the little dog.

“I’m learning to ignore her,” Jefferson said. “Where’s Jem?”

“Family room, dear.”

Jefferson headed into the family room and found Madison, Hamilton, and Monroe working on a puzzle.

They all called out a greeting to him as he sat on the recliner behind his fiancé.

The dogs started up their chorus again as Laurens loud voice flowed through to the family room as he greeted the pack. Hamilton hurried up to greet him.

“How’s it going, Jay?” Jefferson asked. He lifted Madison onto his lap and squeezed him tight.

“Good,” Monroe said. “I like it here.” He pushed up his glasses. “I stopped taking testosterone. It’s not who I am.”

“I’m happy for you.” He met Jay’s eyes. “You have all our support.”

“Thanks.” Jay stuck in another puzzle piece. “Martha is helping me look for clothes and George got me in group therapy. They’re amazing.”

“They truly are.”

“Jemmy,” Mrs. Washington called to him. “Come finish up. George will be home in a few minutes.”

Madison squirmed out of Jefferson’s grasp and ran to the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before the garage door opened and the dogs barked again. Washington came in through the family room and smiled at his kids. “I was told to expect a full house tonight,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Jefferson said. “Jemmy made dinner.”

“Oh, boy.”

More chairs were squeezed in around the table and the blended family of sorts sat down.

Mrs. Washington smiled at Madison. “Our little Jemmy did all the work.”

Jefferson’s face softened as he gazed at his pink-cheeked fiancé.

Plates were filled and first bites taken. Everyone declared the meal excellent. Madison found no flaws in it himself, although he knew everything would have been a failure if not for Mrs. Washington’s watchful eye and expert directions.

After dinner, Jefferson drove Madison home and retired to his apartment. Contentment filled him as he tidied the house and got ready for bed. Life was a disaster but those small moments of love in the middle made it worthwhile.

Back at Mount Vernon, Hamilton and Laurens cleared the table while the Washington’s helped Jay work through her treatment plan for the week.

“I need to ask a huge favor, Alex,” Laurens said as he set a glass in the dishwasher.

“Go for it,” Hamilton said. He collected silverware off the table.

“My sister and I are not getting along and my aunt is getting a bit peeved at me.” He organized cups carefully in a row. “I don’t want to create any bad blood between her and myself and I think my moving out would help a lot.” He looked at his boyfriend and the rest of his words rushed out. “Can you think about me moving in here? If your parents are okay with it, too, and it wouldn’t be for long. I’ve almost saved up enough for an apartment.”

“I’ll ask.” Hamilton smiled at him. “I have no qualms living here with you.”

Laurens sighed with relief. “Good.” He pulled Hamilton close. “If they say no that’s okay. They have Jay now and you, I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Hush.” Hamilton pressed a finger against his lips. “You can’t kiss me when you’re talking.”

“I could try.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes and attacked Laurens’ side where he knew his boyfriend was ticklish. Laurens squeals of laughter attracted the dogs and the kitchen erupted into noise.

From upstairs, the Washington’s smiled at each other. They, too, knew life was a disaster but the small moments of joy made it worth all the pain.


	97. Chapter 97

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brunch

The anniversary party was Saturday evening. Jefferson spent the night at Madison’s house to help his nerves. 

He awoke first on Saturday and lay staring about the dimly lit room. How many times had he slept in this room, in Madison’s bed since high school? It hit him hard to realize he had started high school almost ten years ago. That he had lost his father almost ten years ago.

Not wanting to dwell on that, Jefferson rolled over and cuddled Madison. He’d been doing well health-wise for a while now. It was almost as if he was due for another relapse.

Not wanting to think about that either, Jefferson shifted away and got up. He left the bathroom door open in case Madison needed something and turned on the shower. He took his time enjoying the endless hot water. He was pleased to find his ultra-moisturizing shampoo and conditioner still on the rack.

He finished washing and wrapped a towel around his waist, and applied a leave-in conditioner to his dense curls. He needed it cut, the poufy curls falling almost to his shoulders. He pulled it back in a ponytail and found his razor.

“Your hair looks good like that,” Madison said coming into the bathroom. He rubbed his eyes and rested his face against Jefferson’s bare back.

“Not sure what your parents would think of that at their party,” he said. “I’ll have my sister come over and fix it since she’s in town.”

“Fine.”

“Did you sleep well?” Jefferson asked.

“Yeah.” Madison pulled away and watched him. “Would you ever consider moving in here?”

Jefferson stopped shaving. “I’m pretty sure I’ve done that multiple times when you’ve been sick,” he reminded his fiancé. “You have a lot of little siblings.”

“We would still have plenty of privacy and we could use the upstairs kitchen as our own.”

“I don’t know, Jem.” Jefferson watched him in the mirror. “I know you worry about leaving your parents and you need a lot of care with your health but I would rather us be on our own. I would like you to try spending more time at my apartment, even during the day when I’m gone. I realize you’ve never been alone.”

Madison tugged at his earlobe. “Okay, I’ll try.” He sucked in his lower lip. “I might feel better alone in your apartment if we had a cat.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes and nudged Madison with his hip. “We’ll see. I don’t want to be taking care of the darn thing when you’re at home.”

“It could go back and forth with me,” Madison insisted as he sat at his vanity to begin his morning routine.

“We’ll think about that.” Jefferson finished shaving and washed his face. “What do we have to do before the party?”

Madison paused in rubbing lotions on his face. “I don’t think we have anything critical to do. Dad wants to leave by four. You have your suit, right?”

“Yeah.” Jefferson stood behind Madison and ran a hand over the braid he wore his hair in at night. “Can I take you out for breakfast?”

Madison smiled. “I’d like that.”

Jefferson kissed his head. “We’ll go whenever you’re ready.” He left the bathroom to dress. He texted his sister, Jane, to coordinate when she could stop over to manage his hair. Then he watched the news until Madison had finished getting ready.

Madison came out of the bathroom and grabbed his shoes. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

Jefferson turned off the TV. “Not really. You were still, like, a toddler.”

Madison sat next to him on the bed and pulled on a boot over his faded purple skinny jeans. “I was four and you were six. Our dads worked at the same firm and there was a bring your kids to work day.”

Jefferson nodded, trying to recall.

“I don’t think we had much interest in each other until our dads left us alone and I started crying because I didn’t have my blankie. You were wearing this really soft, fuzzy sweater, and you took it off and gave it to me. It made me stop crying.”

“I don’t remember that,” Jefferson admitted. “I remember having a purple sweater with a rabbit it on it that I wore all the time. It was my sister’s; I don’t know what happened to it.”

Madison pulled on his second boot and slipped off the bed. He opened the bottom drawer on his nightstand where he kept his blanket and pulled out a small, lavender sweater. “This one?”

Jefferson chuckled. “You never gave it back?” He took the child’s sweater, still soft although the white bunny in the center was worn.

“No,” Madison said. “My parents tried to take it away but I’d scream. I’m sure your parents knew it was missing since you weren’t wearing it but I don’t know if they ever asked where it went.”

“I’m sure they were glad it went missing,” Jefferson said. “I was a super gay kid.”

“Still are,” Madison intoned with a grin.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you kept it, though.”

“I liked to pet the bunny. I slept with it for a while, then I outgrew needing it and I remember seeing it in the laundry one day when I was like, thirteen—I think the nanny found it and assumed it was one of the baby’s—and I remembered playing with you when we were little. I think that’s when I started getting a crush on you.”

Jefferson smiled. “That would have been around the time your dad started taking me under his wing.”

Madison nodded. “When we became friends.”

Jefferson pulled Madison onto his lap. “I’m glad you stole my sweater when you were four.” He brushed his lips against Madison’s cheek.

“Me, too.” He wiggled free of Jefferson’s grasp. “Breakfast?”

They headed to a local diner that they had been going to since childhood. They were greeted by name and led to a booth by a window. Angelica and Jane sat in the booth behind them.

“Small world,” Angelica said. She turned around to kneel on her seat and kiss Jefferson’s cheek. “How’re you guys.”

“Was good until we saw you two,” Jefferson teased and smiled at his sister. “Have you ordered yet?”

“No, we just got here.”

Jefferson looked at Madison. “Can they join us?”

Madison smiled and nodded. He moved to sit next to his fiancé and the women sat across from them.

“Oh, I love your nails!” Jane told him.

“Thanks,” Madison said. He stared at the metallic polish.

“What’re you wearing tonight, James?” Angelica asked as she glanced over the menu even though she already knew what she wanted.

“Skirt and blazer.” He glanced at Jefferson. “Mom said it was okay.

“I’m not going to argue with you,” Jefferson said and stroked the back of his hand. “I know you hate dress pants. You look adorable in skirts.”

“You really do,” agreed Angelica. She turned her attention to Jefferson. “Jane and I told your mom about us.”

Jefferson grimaced. “Well, you’re both still alive so that’s a plus.”

“Yeah,” Jane said, “she mostly just sighed and muttered about where she went wrong. You definitely paved the way, T.”

“Just doing my job.” Jefferson sipped his water. “Corrupting people.”

“You are very good at it,” Jane concurred.

The four soon placed their order and talked about the party and how to deal with relatives.

“I’d be more apprehensive,” Jane said, “after what happened but I know you and James will take all the attention off us.”

“No kidding.” Jefferson patted Madison’s head. “Jemmy is good at drawing attention to himself.”

“Because I’m adorable,” Madison said. He gulped down his chocolate milk.

“Fucking adorable,” Jefferson whispered to him and made him grin.

Once breakfast was finished, the groups parted ways, although Jane would soon be over to fix Jefferson’s hair.

She arrived around noon with a bag full of hair products and set to work bringing out the crinkly curls in Jefferson’s thick hair.

Madison looked more pleased with the outcome than Jefferson who was considering more and more that short hair was a better idea. He didn’t have the patience or talent to maintain a proper hairstyle.

Jefferson watched TV while Madison took a bath. He ended up falling asleep and was awaken by a rough shake.

“You better start getting ready,” Madison said. “It’s after three.”

Jefferson squinted at him and sat up rubbing his eyes. “Right.”

Madison returned to the bathroom while Jefferson changed in the bedroom. He hoped Madison would approve of his color choices. He’d gone with gray dress pants and matching vest, and a lavender dress shirt. His tie was lavender and gray plaid with a matching pocket square. He remembered that Madison thought he looked good in purple shades and he would prove him either right or wrong.

He watched out the window after dressing and fidgeted with his tie. He looked up when he heard the bathroom door open. Madison wore a knee-length black skirt with a black velvet blazer, a light blue dress shirt, and blue tie. A black velvet ribbon acted as a headband to keep his long hair out of his face.

“You look amazing,” Jefferson said.

A nervous smile touched Madison’s face. “Are you sure?”

Jefferson couldn’t take his eyes off him. “Positive.”

A real smile replaced the uneasy one. “Thanks. Let me get a good look at you.”

Jefferson stopped messing with his tie and let Madison look him over.

“Perfect,” Madison said. “I told you that was your best color.”

Jefferson’s face relaxed. “Good.” He pulled a small jewelry box out of his pocket. “I don’t know if this goes with your outfit…”

Madison took the box and opened it to a silver tie clip with three small bands of diamonds across the end. “Thomas…”

Jefferson chewed his lip as he watched Madison’s face for a clue of his reaction. “Is it okay?”

Madison looked up, a shimmer in his eyes. “It’s beautiful. But…”

“Don’t fret about the cost,” Jefferson hurried in. “It was my father’s—”

“Thomas,” Madison interrupted, “I couldn’t—” He tried to hand the box back.

Jefferson held his hand up to stop him. “I have plenty of stuff of my father’s. It would mean more to me if you wore it. My father never really got to know you, but I know he’d love you. I want you to have something of his. That tie clip suits you more than it does me. Please, accept it.”

A tear spilled down Madison’s cheek. “I’d be proud to wear it.” He slipped the clip out and handed it to Jefferson.

Jefferson clipped it straight and brushed Madison’s cheek. “Perfect.” He glanced at his watch—which was also his father’s. “We better get downstairs. It’s almost four o’clock. Ready?”

Madison sucked in a deep breath. “Ready.”


	98. Chapter 98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anniversary Party

The couple headed downstairs and waited with the crew of younger Madison siblings in the front room all dressed in suits and elegant dresses. Standing with all the siblings made Jefferson feel like a giant. Frank, the second oldest, was the tallest at a mere five-foot-seven.

Everyone waited in silence. Mr. Madison joined them and his wife soon followed. He checked his watch and ushered the children outside to a waiting limousine to take them to the country club ten minutes away.

Once there, Mr. Madison checked around to make sure everything was going as planned. Mrs. Madison examined the children from adult-age Madison to toddling Reuben. “Everyone looks very nice,” she praised. “I expect proper ladies and gentlemen tonight.” She sent Madison and Frank to check on food preparations and put Ambrose and Nelly in charge of the younger children until everything was figured out.

Jefferson followed his fiancé to the kitchen, weaving through dozens of tables. His stomach growled as the scent of roast beef hit his nose and he realized he hadn’t eaten since brunch.

There was little fear that nothing would be going as planned and the boys only took a quick glance around. Jefferson hovered near the appetizer trays and filched a few cheese cubes.

“So, everything is good,” Frank said, “and I’m going to find something better to do.” He walked off toward the DJ booth.

“What should we do?” Jefferson asked. He stood behind Madison and draped his arms over his small body and held him close.

“Watch everyone arrive from a distance so we can avoid relatives?” Madison suggested.

“I’d rather get that over with,” Jefferson said. “We will have to send them invitations to our wedding.”

Madison sighed. “Fine.”

They headed toward the entrance where Madison’s parents spoke to some of the country club employees. Mr. Madison waved them over. He spoke to a man in a tuxedo and pointed to Jefferson. “This is my future son-in-law, Thomas; you can find him, too, if there are any issues.”

The man nodded to Jefferson.

Jefferson nodded back with an off-guard smile.

The first guests, the Washington’s, soon arrived. Hamilton and Laurens followed them in looking almost unrecognizable in pressed suits and polished shoes. Laurens curls were bunched up in a neat bun and Hamilton’s growing hair had a nice shine to it.

“Dang, little duck,” Hamilton said, “you look like a million bucks.”

Madison beamed. “You look nice, too, Alex.”

“I ought to as long as it took Dad to be satisfied.” He slipped his arm through Laurens’. “Is the bar open yet?”

“Not yet,” Madison said, “but the waiters have champagne.”

Hamilton dragged his boyfriend away to grab glasses.

Jefferson’s family soon arrived and his sisters doted on Madison.

“Your skirt is so pretty!” Marty J said as she hugged him.

“T gave you Daddy’s tie clip!” Jane exclaimed and took her turn to squeeze Madison in a tight embrace. “It’s perfect for you.” She let go and punched her brother. “You’re so whipped.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Where are Mom and Grandma?”

“You know how slow Grandma walks,” Jane said. “They were literally right behind us a minute ago.”

The siblings headed inside as more people arrived.

“Let’s just say hi to my grandma,” Jefferson whispered to Madison, “and then get away from the door and find champagne.”

Madison nodded as he twisted his engagement ring.

Grandma Jefferson made it inside and created a ruckus over her eldest grandson. “You get taller every time I see you, boy.” She yanked him down to kiss his cheek. “Such a fine-looking fellow you are. Looks at those gorgeous curls.”

“Thanks, Grandma,” Jefferson mumbled. “You remember James?” Jefferson prodded his fiancé forward.

“Of course!” Grandma Jefferson grabbed Madison by the shoulders and kissed his cheeks. “Let’s see that ring, young man.”

Madison glanced at Jefferson, who nodded in reassurance and held out his hand.

“Goodness, Thomas,” she scolded her grandson, “that is much to plain. I hope you get him some proper bling for his wedding ring.” She pinched Madison’s cheek. “This fine fellow deserves it.”

“Yes, Grandma,” Jefferson said, embarrassed but not for the reasons he’d been expecting. He wondered if his mom or sisters had reminded Grandma or if she’d figured it out on her own that ‘James’ was indeed a guy.

“Oh, and look what’s he’s wearing.” Grandma Jefferson touched the tie clip. “Good job, Thomas. You put some shine on that white boy.” She pinched Madison’s cheek again. “Time for some champagne.” She patted Jefferson’s arm as she headed in search of a drink.

Madison and Jefferson let out deep sighs of relief.

“My face hurts,” Madison said, “but that was better than expected.”

“Definitely.” Jefferson took Madison’s hand. “Drinks?”

“Please.”

The reception hall filled with people. Jefferson found them drinks and hit the appetizer tables. Laurens and Hamilton stood nearby eating and drinking with Angelica and Jane.

“Was Aaron coming?” Jefferson asked Angelica before stuffing cheese and crackers in his mouth.

“I don’t think so,” Angelica said with a sideways glance at Laurens.

“He’s probably too busy with his lady friend,” Hamilton said. “I’ve met her, like, once.”

“She’s sweet,” Angelica said. “She has a cat now.”

Madison’s face lit up but he didn’t get a chance to ask questions before Frank appeared behind them.

 “Grandmother wants to see you,” he said.”

Madison grimaced. “What about Thomas?”

Frank shrugged. “Aunt Gertrude came, too.”

Madison’s shoulders drooped. “I don’t want to deal with her.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jefferson reassured. He handed their drinks to Laurens and nudged Madison after his brother and followed behind. They both only had a grandmother left and it made Jefferson feel more determined to keep those two older women in their lives.

The Madison clan was all together talking to relatives.

“Here’s James, Mother,” Mrs. Madison said and drew her eldest child in.

Grandmother looked him over and paused before she took his hands. “There’s my little Jemmy.” She squeezed his hands. “How’s your health been?”

“Good,” Madison murmured. He glanced at his parents hoping one of them would mention Jefferson.

But Aunt Gertrude—a tiny old lady and Grandmother’s sister—broke in before anything could be said. “What is he wearing?” She stared Madison up and down. “The clothes young people are wearing these days are an abomination.” She grabbed Madison’s hand. “Don’t tell me this is a wedding ring? I don’t want to believe there is some woman out there that would approve of this getup.”

Jefferson cleared his throat.

All eyes turned around to stare at the tall, black man.

“I approve of his getup,” Jefferson said. “He’s my fiancé.”

Aunt Gertrude’s eyes narrowed and she looked back at Madison. “Not possible.”

“James is gay, remember?” Mr. Madison said and rested his hands on Madison’s shoulders. “He and Thomas got engaged several months ago.” He nodded toward Jefferson.

Aunt Gertrude reeled around and glared up at Jefferson. “No,” she growled. “I don’t approve. He’s black.” She turned to glare at Mrs. Madison. “How could you let little Jemmy do this?”

“Jemmy’s happiness is all that matters to us,” Mrs. Madison said.

Aunt Gertrude looked around at the other relatives, most of whom looked unsure of the outburst. Grandmother’s lips were in a thin line but she kept quiet.

“It’s appalling,” Aunt Gertrude insisted. “They’re ruining the sanctity of marriage.”

Mr. Madison nudged Madison toward Jefferson. “It’s a good thing your three marriages didn’t ruin that.”

“Well—”

Jefferson pulled Madison away and they retreated to their friends. They took their drinks back and promptly drained the glasses.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” Hamilton said.

“No,” Madison said. “Although, I would say a lot of that is because Thomas is black and tall.”

“Your family _is_ really white and short,” Hamilton agreed. “Let’s get you another drink.” He draped his arm around Madison and led him away.

“You okay?” Angelica asked Jefferson.

“Peeved, but I knew it was going to happen,” Jefferson said. He jumped when someone touched his shoulder.

“Sorry, son,” Washington apologized and handed him a full glass of champagne.

“Thanks, sir.” Jefferson took a long sip.

“Gertrude is one of the finest hypocrites,” Washington said. “Don’t let her get you down. I’m sure there is no need to invite her to your wedding. Jemmy’s grandmother will come around. She’s a sensible lady.” He patted Jefferson’s shoulder. “Where are Jemmy and Alexander?”

“Looking for more drinks,” Laurens said. “Do you think the bar is open?”

He got an answer to his question when Hamilton and Madison returned with mixed drinks already half drunk.

“Easy, Jemmy,” Jefferson admonished as he watched his fiancé suck hard on the straw. “What is that?”

Madison handed him a second drink. “Tequila sunrise.”

Jefferson glanced at Angelica, thinking about the last time they drank tequila.

“Better watch him close,” Angelica murmured. “Old Gertrude doesn’t need more ammunition to hate on him.”

Jefferson agreed and snatched away Madison’s drink. “Maybe slow down. You already had champagne, too, and not much to eat.”

“I deserve it,” Madison said. “Dinner is about to be served anyway. I’ll be fine.”

Jefferson handed him back the drink and sipped his own. They headed into the dining area and found their table. Madison had made sure their friends were seated together and away from family.

Soon, they all had food and drinks. Then seconds and more drinks. After that, Hamilton and Laurens returned with a round of tequila shots for everyone.

“Let’s dance,” Madison told Jefferson as he leaned into Jefferson’s space, half on his lap.

“You’re drunk,” Jefferson said.

“I know!”

Jefferson glared at Hamilton.

“You’re welcome,” Hamilton said. He nudged Laurens. “Let’s dance.”

Madison dragged Jefferson after their friends. Angelica and Jane followed.

“Are we all gay?” Angelica asked with a giggle as Jane spun her around.

“Yes!” Madison said. “We can piss off everyone!”

Jefferson leaned down. “You’re being really loud.”

“I don’t care!”

“Yeah, you do.” Jefferson steadied him as Madison tripped over his own feet. “Don’t embarrass your parents. Stand on my feet.”

Madison obliged and managed not to fall.

Hamilton rested his head on Laurens’ shoulder as they attempted to dance. He slipped his hand down and squeezed Lauren’s butt.

Laurens nipped Hamilton’s ear. “Don’t get us in trouble, Hammy.”

Hamilton lifted his head and kissed Laurens. “I’ll do what I want.”

Laurens rubbed his head against Hamilton’s face. “Good.”

When the slow dance ended, Jefferson retreated and left Madison to group dance with the rest. His sisters tried to drag him in but he shook them off. He hadn’t inherited the dancing gene of his people. He watched and felt a drink pressed into his hand.

Jefferson grinned. “Well if it isn’t Aaron Burr. We didn’t think you’d come.”

“Free drinks,” Burr said. “Looks like I have a few to catch up on.” He indicated to Madison and Hamilton attempting to out-dance each other.

“Tequila shot,” Jefferson said. “Did you get anything to eat?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Burr sipped on his drink. “Everything going okay?”

“Eh.” Jefferson sucked deep on the straw. “How come you were late?”

“Theodosia.”

“You should have brought her.”

“Another time.” Burr finished his drink. “I need a shot. You?”

“Why not.”

They made their way to the bar and ordered shots.

“Hey, oh! Two more,” Hamilton shouted as he and Madison approached.

“Nope.” Jefferson pushed Madison away. “He’s had enough.”

“T, I’m fine!” Madison latched onto Jefferson’s belt. “I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t.” Jefferson held up two fingers. “How many fingers?”

“Four! Aaron!” Madison threw his arms around Burr. “You made it! Welcome!”

“Yeah, he’s done,” Burr said and pried off Madison.

Hamilton took his shot and ordered another for Laurens.

“Come and dance!” Madison pulled at Burr’s hand.

“Only if Thomas does,” Burr said with a grin.

“Thomas, come on!” Madison threw himself at his fiancé and pulled on his vest.

“Careful,” Jefferson said. “Fine.”

The tequila hit good and Jefferson gave up minding as he danced with his friends, sisters, and cousins of Madison’s. Singing, dancing, and not caring felt great.

Hamilton twirled Madison around. “Do you want another shot?”

“Yes!” Madison shouted.

Hamilton grabbed his hand and headed to the bar. The tequila was gone but it all tasted the same at that point and they each downed a shot of whiskey.

They returned to dance and got Marty J to join them, holding hands and spinning each other around.

A cupcake in each hand, Jefferson found Laurens sitting alone at their table. “You, ‘kay?”

“Never better,” Laurens said voice loud and bitter. He pointed at Burr dancing with Angelica. “Why is he here?”

Jefferson finished one cupcake in two bites. “Let it go, John. You’re both drunk. You’ll forget you were in each other’s presence by tomorrow.” He finished the other cupcake. “I have to pee.”

Laurens followed him to the restroom. “What if something happens?” he asked.

“Just don’t talk to each other.” Jefferson struggled to unzip his pants. “Fuck, what is wrong with this?”

Laurens glanced over. “Lemme help.” He unbuckled Jefferson’s belt and pushed him against the wall.

“No.” Jefferson shoved him back. “We’re wasted.”

“Perfect excuse.” Laurens grabbed Jefferson’s hips and stood on his toes to press their bodies together.

Jefferson elbowed him back. “Don’t take your pissy mood out on me. I just want to pee.”

Laurens crossed his arms. “Fine.”

Jefferson managed to get his pants figured out but had to endure Laurens staring at him while he urinated.

“Go find your boyfriend if you’re horny,” Jefferson told him as he fought the zipper back up.

Laurens stomped out of the bathroom.

Jefferson rubbed his eyes and staggered back to their table. Washington joined him and pushed a glass of water toward him.

“Hydrate.”

Jefferson sipped the water.

“Where’s Jemmy?” Washington asked.

“What?” Jefferson mumbled. He pushed away the glass of water and finished a glass of champagne on the table. He gestured vaguely toward the dance floor.

Hamilton and Madison discarded their suit jackets and ties long ago and now kicked off their shoes.

Hamilton half spun Madison and locked him in close back to chest. “You’re amazing,” he yelled in Madison’s ear. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” Madison said as he ground his body into Hamilton’s. “I’d fuck you.”

“What’s been stopping you?” Hamilton slipped his hand up Madison’s skirt.

His heart sped up and he turned in Hamilton’s arms to face him. “I don’t know.”

Hamilton touched his lips to the corner of Madison’s mouth. “You deserve to know what sex really feels like,” he panted as he untucked Madison’s shirt.

Madison wrapped his arms around Hamilton’s neck as his body went weak. He pressed his lips against his neck and sucked. As Hamilton’s hand rubbed against him, he suckled harder and nipped at his skin.

Burr, dancing with Angelica, motioned toward the pair. “Think that’s getting out of hand?”

Angelica cringed. “Oh, God, yeah.” She alerted Jane and they grabbed Hamilton while Burr pried Madison away.

“You guys are past wasted,” Burr said. “Time to return you to your actual boyfriends.”

Madison licked Burr’s hand. “I’ll fuck you.”

“You need to calm down,” Burr replied. He half-dragged, half-carried Madison over to their table. “Here you go, T. One super sloppy fiancé.”

Jefferson pushed his chair back and took Madison on his lap and frowned at his disheveled state. “What the fuck, Jem?”

“Yes,” Madison answered drunkenly and tried to turn around to kiss him.

“Time to get you home.” Jefferson staggered to his feet with Madison in his arms. He found Washington. “Any chance you’re leaving soon and can give us a ride?”

Washington looked at Madison, who started to giggle. “Of course. I think it would be wise to take all of you home.” He handed Jefferson his keys and went in search of the rest of the boys. His wife had already gotten a ride home earlier with Jefferson’s mom and grandma.

Jefferson found the car and unlocked it but couldn’t maneuver Madison and a door in his drunken state and Madison had passed out in his arms.

It was about ten minutes later before Washington had tracked Hamilton back down. He held his son in his arms while Laurens staggered along behind him.

Laurens opened the car doors and fell into the back seat. Jefferson got in the passenger side with Madison. Washington dumped Hamilton in next to Laurens. He started the car with a sigh.

“You buys need to learn to hold your liquor. Angelica promised to gather up your discarded clothes so that Mr. and Mrs. Madison won’t know how inappropriate you were. Although, why I’m bothering to explain when you’re all shit-faced is beyond me.”

Jefferson and Laurens giggled at his language and struggled to control themselves.

Washington backed up the car and headed for home, grumbling to himself.

Once they were in the house, Washington pleaded for them to be quiet. “Mom and Jay are asleep. Thomas, you and Jemmy will have to take the middle room.”

“Yes, sir,” Jefferson mumbled and headed upstairs. He dropped Madison on one of the beds as he felt his body give in wholly to the alcohol. He collapsed on the second bed and was out.

Washington carried Hamilton upstairs and wrangled him out of his clothes and tucked him in.

Laurens staggered out of the bathroom and collapsed next to his boyfriend.

Washington shook his head with a sigh and headed across the hall.


	99. Chapter 99

Jefferson woke a few hours later after the alcohol-induced knockout passed. His head throbbed and ached and his throat hurt with dryness. He stumbled across the hall to the bathroom and filled a cup with water. He drank as much as he could and found some aspirin. But before he took that, he forced himself to throw up a few times.

He returned to the bedroom and unbuttoned his vest. His tie was gone but he didn’t remember removing it. He stripped to his underwear and undressed Madison. An icky feeling not related to the alcohol settled in his stomach when he realized Madison didn’t have his tie—or the tie clip. He prayed Angelica had found it and it hadn’t been damaged. He didn’t like to think that he couldn’t trust Madison with an important heirloom.

He sank back in bed but it was a while before he fell back asleep.

Laurens was the first to drag himself up around ten o’clock. He headed to the kitchen and sat down at the table, resting his head on his arms.

“Good morning,” Washington said as he sipped coffee from the chair across from him.

“Ugh,” Laurens grumbled.

“Toast?”

“Please.”

Washington got up and stuck two pieces of bread in the toaster.  

“Ugh, Potato,” Laurens griped as the dog licked his bare feet and legs. “I’m probably still sweating tequila, you’ll get drunk.”

Washington shook his head as he got out a plate and butter. He heard Hamilton thud down the stairs and grabbed another plate.

Like Laurens, Hamilton hadn’t dressed and Potato ran to lick his bare legs. “George, I’m dying,” he groaned.

“It’s your own fault,” Washington chided. “And it’s ‘Dad’ to you. Sit, I’m making you toast. Do you want coffee?”

“Please.” Hamilton took a seat and scooted his chair closer to Laurens’. He rested his head on Laurens’ shoulder. “I’m sorry and I love you.”

Laurens’ rubbed his cheek against Hamilton’s head. “I tried to flirt with Thomas. It’s okay.”

Hamilton snorted. “I don’t think you’d get very far with him.”

“He’s definitely not a slutty drunk like James.” Laurens sipped his coffee. “Or you.”

“I’m sorry.” Hamilton ran a hand through his short hair.

“Do you remember taking your belt off?” Laurens asked. “I think you were about to striptease before Washington grabbed you.”

Hamilton shook his head. “I only remember that I was trying to fuck up James.” His eyes begged his boyfriend’s forgiveness.

“Yeah, you were doing a good job at that,” Laurens agreed and indicated to the bruises on Hamilton’s neck. “He was pretty into it, too.”

Color darkened Hamilton’s already florid complexion.

“I suppose he can look a bit hot when he’s drunk,” Laurens continued as his lips twitched. “He’s always cute, but when his face starts getting all red and he loosens up, starts undressing.”

Hamilton swallowed and crossed his legs. He could feel the heat in his cheeks.

“I’m sure we’ve all been there,” Laurens said. “He’s magnetic. Makes you wanna—”

“Yeah, I get it,” Hamilton blurted. “Dad, is my toast ready?”

“Cool your jets, Alexander,” Washington scolded.

Laurens propped his elbows on the table and rested his face in his hands. “You still have a crush on James?”

“What?” Hamilton choked.

“You heard me.” Laurens poked his boyfriend’s nose. “I’m not mad if you do, just curious.”

Hamilton scratched his neck. “I don’t.”

“Dude, you are so lying,” Laurens said. He dropped his hand under the table and pushed at Hamilton’s knee. “Uncross your legs.”

“Fuck off,” Hamilton grunted and slapped his hand.

“Settle down, boys,” Washington admonished and set Hamilton’s toast and coffee on the table. “Respect each other.” His eyes bore into them and they silently ate their breakfast.

“I accept your apology,” Laurens mumbled after a few minutes. “I was irritated last night after Aaron showed up.”

“I should have controlled myself,” said Hamilton as he stared at his toast. “Do you consider what I did cheating?”

Laurens shook his head. “I trust you.”

Hamilton reached over to touch his hand. “Thanks.”

Upstairs, Jefferson scrolled through his phone as he sat next to Madison. It was almost noon but staying still felt like the best idea. He fingered the bruises on Madison’s neck. He also didn’t want to see how many marks his fiancé had put on Hamilton.

Madison stirred and reached a hand out blindly to stop the hand poking him.

“Afternoon, Jem,” Jefferson said.

“Fuck,” Madison muttered.

“Yeah, no.” Jefferson stroked his forehead. “You need water and aspirin. Sit up.”

Madison dragged himself up slowly. Jefferson handed him the pills and water he’d stockpiled when he got up to pee a few hours before.

Madison swallowed the aspirin and rested his head against Jefferson’s chest. “Did I cross any lines last night?”

“It worries me that you have to ask,” Jefferson replied.

“I was drunk,” Madison protested.

“That’s not an excuse.” Jefferson poked the hickey on Madison’s neck. “What is with you and Alex? I swear, sometimes…”

“What?” Madison looked up at him. “You think I’m attracted to Alex?”

“Yes.”

Madison, having expected an “are you” and not a blunt response didn’t know what to say and picked at the sheets.

“I get it, to an extent,” Jefferson said after the silence continued. “He’s got a high libido and he pays you a lot of attention. You wonder what it’s really like with someone who has a sex drive. I get it, but does what we have not mean enough to you? Are you not fulfilled?”

Madison met his eyes. “I am but sometimes I do wonder.”

“What it would be like to have bed banging sex?” Jefferson clarified.

Madison nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jefferson stroked his cheek. “You’re amazing and I want you to be happy. On our honeymoon, I promise you will get the most amazing sex ever.”

A smile teased up Madison’s lips. “So, who’s going on the honeymoon with me?”

If his stomach didn’t threaten to spew its contents, Jefferson would have shoved his fiancé off the bed in annoyance. Instead, he rolled his eyes and said sarcastically, “Obviously not me.” He tapped Madison’s nose. “I know you get urges. Just talk to me, okay?”

Madison nodded.

“We should get up,” Jefferson said. “I’m sure we’ve already overstayed our welcome.”

 “No kidding.” Madison slid off the bed. “Do I have any clothes?”

“No.” Jefferson had already dressed back in his wrinkled suit. “You threw up on them. Go see if Alexander has anything you can borrow.”

Madison headed to Hamilton’s room. He found an oversized t-shirt that he guessed was Lafayette’s and pulled it on. It fell halfway above his knees.

 “Ready?” Jefferson asked.

“How’re we getting home?” Madison followed him downstairs.

“We can walk.”

“I don’t know what happened to my shoes.”

Jefferson glanced at Madison’s bare feet. “I’ll carry you.” He glanced toward the kitchen but couldn’t muster the courage over his embarrassment to tell Washington they were leaving. He picked up Madison and unlocked the front door.

At the end of the driveway, he moved Madison to his back and headed for Montpelier about a mile away.

Madison rested his head against Jefferson’s neck and closed his eyes.

“James, I have to ask you something.”

An unpleasant flutter rose in Madison’s stomach. He lifted his head. “I don’t like the sound of this.”

Jefferson adjusted his grip on Madison’s legs. “What happens when you get sick again? He asked. “What if I have to make a decision?”

“Where is this coming from?” Madison asked as his stomach gurgled. He dug his nails into Jefferson’s shoulders.

“It’s always in the back of my mind,” Jefferson admitted as he concentrated on the sidewalk. “Would you want me to pull the plug?”

Madison sucked in a deep breath. “If my only hope was to be a vegetable, yes, pull the plug. That’s no way for either of us to live. Can I pull the plug on you?”

“Only in the same situation.” Jefferson shrugged his shoulders to get his fiancé’s fingernails out of him. “You sound like you want to pull it right now,” he teased to lighten the mood.

“Not _right_ now,” Madison replied. “Not until I at least have a cat.”

“Ah, I see now.” Jefferson smiled. “You want to replace me, that’s why you’re so eager to get this cat. Who exactly is paying for this future beast?”

“You.”

Jefferson feigned dropping Madison and grinned when Madison grasped at his shirt. “I’m your sugar daddy, aren’t I?”

Madison leaned over Jefferson’s shoulder. “Yes. And, you know, considering you’re carrying me, a white boy…”

“I’m gonna drop you for real, cracker,” Jefferson threated while grinning.

“I’m so scared,” mocked Madison. He paused. “Actually I am. It’s a long way to fall. You know the air is kind of getting thin up here. No wonder you’re such an airhead.”

Jefferson dropped his hands away from Madison’s legs again. “You better pray your house is getting nearer,” he said with a smirk, “because I’m about to drop your ass.”

Madison clung to his neck. “You wouldn’t.” He licked Jefferson’s ear. “Daddy.”

Jefferson gagged. He reached back for Madison’s legs. “And thank God we’re home.” He punched in the code for the front gate. He set Madison down in the grass.

“It’s too cold,” Madison complained and reached to wrap his arms back around Jefferson’s neck.

Jefferson groaned but obliged and finished carting Madison to the front porch. Inside, they hurried up to Madison’s room and changed.

“I’m going to text Angelica to make sure she found your tie clip,” Jefferson said sitting on the bed.

Madison nodded. He wasn’t about to admit that he had forgotten about it. He hadn’t thought twice about discarding his tie or what Jefferson might think if the clip got lost. He fretted in silence for the three minutes it took Angelica to reply.

“Whew, she has it,” Jefferson said and sent a thank you.

Madison sighed in relief.

Jefferson got off the bed. “I’m going to head home.” He kissed Madison’s head. “I think we both could use a few hours of peace. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you,” Madison said.

Jefferson touched his chin. “I know, Jemmy.” He brushed his lips against his fiancé’s. “I love you, too. Please, don’t pull the plug on me too soon.”

Madison met his dark eyes. “I won’t. I promise.”


	100. Chapter 100

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greene

As soon as he walked into the building, Greene called his name and asked Jefferson to follow. Mind on all the things he needed to do as soon as he got to his office, Jefferson sighed, swallowed the last of his coffee and tossed it in the nearest garbage can. He followed Greene, brain still mentally ticking off everything he would need to do. 

Greene closed the door to his office. “Sit.”

“I’ll fine standing,” Jefferson said and hoped he conveyed a sense of urgency. He had stuff to do!

Greene took his own seat. “How’s law school? When are you out for the summer?”

“End of May.” Jefferson licked his lips. “What did you need to see me about?”

Greene leaned forward and folded his hands on his desk. “Sit.”

“I have a million things to do, Nathanael,” Jefferson said. 

Greene stood and moved toward him. “I’m aware. You put a lot of pressure on yourself. Do you have any hobbies or friends that help you? How do you relieve your stress?”

He stood too close but Jefferson didn’t want Greene to have the upper hand and know how uncomfortable he was. He’d played this game enough with Greene and knew backing away only drew him closer.

“Do you work out?” Greene asked. “You played football in high school, right?”

“Yeah,” Jefferson said only able to focus on Greene in front of him. He wasn’t much shorter than Jefferson was but not as muscular. He took another step forward and this time Jefferson had to step back. “Don’t get in my space.”

Greene rolled his eyes. “That’s what you tell everyone, isn’t it? Reticent recluse that you are.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Jefferson said and rubbed his thumbs against his fingers as he tried not to form a defensive posture. “If you have something work-related—”

“God, you’re such a bore,” Greene groaned. “Work, work, work, is that all you do? Get a girlfriend, man.”

“I’m engaged,” Jefferson snapped. He wasn’t sure how Greene hadn’t noticed the ring he’d been wearing openly for months. 

Greene laughed. “Buddy, your relationship with junior is a joke, surely you know that?”

Jefferson sucked in a deep breath as his muscles tensed. If he punched Greene, Jefferson would be the one fired. He would destroy his whole career no matter how valid his reason. “It’s not,” Jefferson said and walked out. 

He slammed his office door and made Angelica jump.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Greene.” Jefferson kicked at the filing cabinet. “I’m going to strangle him.”

“Still not understanding boundaries?” Angelica got up and touched his shoulder. “Wow, you are really tense.”

“He said my relationship with Jemmy is a joke,” Jefferson spat. 

“You know it’s not.” Angelica stood on her toes to massage his shoulders. “He’s trying to get a rise out of you, get you fired. He knows you’re a threat to his job.”

“I don’t want his job.” Even with Angelica’s attempts, he could not get his body to relax. “I want him to leave me alone.”

“I know.” She worked her hands in deeper. “Can you tell Reynolds or Mr. Madison?”

“Tell them what?” Jefferson shrugged off her hands. “That Greene stands to close and hurt my feelings?” He shook his head. “It’s not worth it.” He sat at his desk and tried to focus his mind on the piles of paperwork.

“But it’s not right,” Angelica insisted. “You deserve to be comfortable at work.”

Jefferson ignored her and started answering emails.

 

He dreaded going to work the next day and struggled to focus on his classes. In the afternoon, he dragged himself through the front doors. 

“Mr. Jefferson.”

Jefferson closed his eyes briefly and turned toward Greene. “I don’t have time right now, sir.” He spat the last word.

“You do.” Greene walked toward him.

Jefferson stepped away from his reaching hand. “Fine.” He followed his supervisor to his office. 

Greene closed the door and stepped into his space. “What’re you going to do?” A hand strayed up Jefferson’s arm.

Jefferson couldn’t stop himself from flinching but he wouldn’t back away. “What do you think you’re going to get out of this?” he asked struggling to keep his voice even.

“You think you’re invincible.” Greene brushed a hand against Jefferson’s belt buckle.

Jefferson smacked his hand. “Do not touch me.”

“Or what?” Greene stepped back with a smirk. “I put some papers on your desk. Can you get them done first? Thanks.” He opened the office door. 

Jefferson stumbled out while his heart pounded and he forgot how to breathe. Greene was right. If Jefferson defended himself, he would be the one in trouble. A black man hitting his supervisor would garner little sympathy or any investigation as to the cause. No one would believe it if he said he—a 6’2 male—had been assaulted by Greene. It would only tarnish his work record. He would quit if he had to but that would mean Angelica would have to work with someone else or be shuffled around and maybe lose her own job.

Some tension left his body when he went home that night and found Madison in his apartment with dinner ready. He could keep working to support his fiancé. 

“You look tired,” Madison said. He stood on his toes to kiss him and undo his tie. “Do you want wine?”

“Long week,” Jefferson said. He wrapped his arms around his partner for a moment and held him tight. “Wine would be good.”

They ate the spaghetti, meatballs, and garlic bread Madison had made while they watched TV in bed. Jefferson was glad of the distraction and noise to prevent them from talking. When they finished, he reached for Madison’s plate but his fiancé stopped him.

“I’ll do the dishes.” 

“Thanks.” Jefferson sipped his wine. His eyes glassed over as he stared blindly at the TV and wondered what tomorrow would be like. Would Greene toy with him now that Jefferson understood he had no way out and leave him alone to stress? Or would he continue with the harassment and escalate? 

“Shoot,” Madison exclaimed as a plate clattered to the floor.

Jefferson cringed at the noise.  
“It didn’t break,” Madison assured. He cleaned sauce off the floor. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Jefferson said. He patted the bed. 

Madison returned to him and snuggled close. “Did something happen at law school?”

Jefferson shook his head.

“Work?”

Jefferson hesitated. He didn’t want to burden his fiancé. There wasn’t anything Madison could do anyway. “My supervisor is being a snot and I have a lot to do. It’ll get better soon.” He swallowed the lump building in his throat. What if that wasn’t true?

“I’m sorry.” Madison stroked his hand. “Anything I can do?”

“Watch TV with me.” Jefferson kissed Madison’s head and closed his eyes.

***

As he had thought, Greene left him alone for the rest of the week. But on Monday, he called to Jefferson when he walked in the building. 

“You’re making me uncomfortable,” Jefferson said at once. 

“Then sue me,” Greene said. He closed the door. 

“What do you want?” Jefferson asked. He kept his voice even while his heart thundered in his chest and sweat soaked into his undershirt.

Greene rolled his eyes. “You talk too much.”

Jefferson clenched his jaw tight. When did he talk too much? But if he argued that, it would play into Greene’s opinion.

“You’re uptight,” Green continued. “Loosen up. Get that stick out if your ass. Live a little.” He stepped in Jefferson’s bubble and touched his chest. “Relax.”

Jefferson shoved him back. “Touch me again and I’ll—”

“Go to jail,” Greene finished. “You don’t want another Adams incident, do you? Your mommy wouldn’t be able to help you this time.”

Jefferson’s eyes narrowed. “What’re you talking about?” Not that he could ever forget about what Adams did to Madison or how he’s gotten his revenge. But how did Greene know?

“I went to the same private high school you did, T.” Greene watched him. “I have friends who have friends who went there while Adams was teaching your fiancé a lesson. Just because you were never publicly charged with assault, doesn’t mean people haven’t talked about it. Adams wasn’t one to keep his mouth shut.”

“Fuck you,” Jefferson growled. He headed for the door.

Greene stopped him with a firm grasp on his bicep. “You should work out more, Mr. Jefferson.” He let go and stepped back.

Jefferson grasped the doorknob with a sweaty hand and let it slam shut behind him.


	101. Chapter 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurens moves in

“Dad, are you busy?” Hamilton asked as he poked his head into Washington’s study.

Washington glanced at the ending time for the eBay auction he was watching. “Never too busy for you, my boy.”

Hamilton came in and took his usual seat and drew one leg up and rested his chin on it. He stared at his dad as he searched for words. Lifting his chin, he blurted, “Can John move in?”

“Hmm.” Washington’s eyes flickered toward his computer screen. Five more minutes. “Are you ready for that?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hamilton said. “You let Aaron move in and things went to hell. But I’m not in the same place mentally I was then. This relationship with John is completely different. Plus he needs a place to stay because he’s not getting along with his sister.”

“You are definitely in a much better place mentally,” Washington agreed. “I’ll talk to Mom. If we say yes, Alex—” He met his son’s eyes with a firm gaze. “—he will have his own room. Take is slow before you move completely into each other’s space.”

“I understand.”

Washington looked back at his computer. Two minutes left.

“What’re you bidding on?” Hamilton asked.

“Just a minute,” Washington said and focused his attention on the screen, ready to bid at the last second.

Hamilton sat in silence, waiting.

“Yes!” Washington turned the screen toward his son.

Hamilton could only laugh. It only took his dad four years but he’d finally won the glass chess set he wanted.

***

“Can we handle three young adults living with us?” Washington asked his wife, as they got ready for bed. “I know John will say it’s only temporary until he’s saved a bit more but that could last a lot longer than a few months. We have no idea how long Jay is going to need us. Alexander isn’t close to being ready to move out.”

Mrs. Washington finished washing her face before she answered. “I’m sure we can manage. If we made it through Alexander, Dolley, Anna, and Todd, we can handle these three. Unless you don’t want John to move in?”

Washington rubbed Potomac’s belly. “I worry it won’t be good for Alex and John’s relationship. Living at home together could be more stressful than them living alone together.”

“We can give John a time limit then,” Mrs. Washington said. “I’m sure he’d rather have his privacy and a place Alex can visit him. The grandbaby will be born in July; maybe we give John until then? We’ll be busier after the baby is born and not need the added headache. I’ll talk to Jay, too, and make sure she’s comfortable with this.”

“Sounds reasonable.” He stopped petting the dog and Potomac nudged his hand. “I already told Alexander if we said yes they’d be in separate rooms.”

“Will they heed that?” Mrs. Washington questioned. She opened a jar of lotion.

“Of course not but we can say we tried.”

Mrs. Washington shook her head and changed the subject. “How much did your chess set cost?”

“That’s private information.” Washington looked at the scruffy dog. “Right, Potomac?”

Potomac wagged his tail.

“Very well, dear.” Mrs. Washington joined him in bed.

***

The next afternoon, Mrs. Washington called Jay into the kitchen after she had changed clothes after college. “How were your classes?”

“Tiring,” said Jay. “I’m ready to change schools in the fall.” Washington had helped her apply to different schools where she could be herself without constant questions by people who had known her as “Jacob.” She still dressed as a boy at college to avoid it. She’d been accepted by several colleges and chose one in Pennsylvania. The Washington’s still wanted her back home for school breaks, though, as long as she needed.

Mrs. Washington patted her hand. “I know, dear. Only another month.” She opened a container of cookies. “George and I wanted to know your thoughts on John moving in.”

“Oh, boy.” Jay reached for a cookie. “Will any of us get any sleep?”

“We hope they’ll stay in separate rooms.” Mrs. Washington crossed her fingers. “But there will definitely be rules to give everyone else peace and quiet.”

Jay swallowed her bite of cookie. “That’s fine with me. John’s pretty cool.”

“Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Washington smiled at her. “How have you been feeling?”

“Amazing for the most part,” Jay said. “The testosterone did not agree with my body. I have more energy now and I don’t feel so anxious.”

Mrs. Washington squeezed her hand. “I’m so happy for you. You look great, Jay.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

***

Later that night after dinner, Laurens did the dishes while Hamilton exercised the dogs outside and picked up dog poop. Jay had gone out with new friends from therapy. The Washington’s remained at the table enjoying another glass of wine.

“Well, my dear,” Washington said with a wink at his wife. “I think the new kids are proving themselves useful. May I keep these two?”

“Fine, George,” Mrs. Washington said. “But no more.”

Washington chuckled. “Sure. You can have the middle room if you like, John.”

“I prefer Alex’s,” Laurens retorted as a grin spread across his face. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel and headed toward the table. “Thank you, sir and Mrs. Washington.”

“I expect you to keep Alex out of trouble,” Washington said.

“I’ll do my best,” Laurens replied. “May I tell him?”

“Go on.”

Laurens raced through the family room and toward the back door. “Alex! I can move in!”

Hamilton’s whoop echoed into the kitchen.


	102. Chapter 102

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harassment

Jefferson went to the gym and lifted weights until his arms burned and he had blisters on his hands. He had to keep himself strong to protect his Jemmy. It had been a while since he had worked out regularly, he’d definitely let himself go, his muscles flabby. He worked out every day that week. By Friday, when his arms trembled trying to button his shirt, he knew he’d played right into Greene’s hands and had weakened himself. If Greene went after him today, he’d be too fatigued to put up a fight.

He just wouldn’t go to work then, Jefferson decided. However, in order to call in sick, he’d have to talk to Greene.

Jefferson cussed. _What am I supposed to do?_ He ran a hand through his hair and stared at his tired face in the mirror. He was twenty-four; he couldn’t run to Washington every time something made him uncomfortable. He should have done that with Adams, though, but he’d been a kid then. No, he’d been twenty and stupid and decided he could take matters into his own hands. The grown-up thing to do was tell a different supervisor that Greene had crossed a line.

 _What if no one believes me?_ With his stomach muscles already sore, the thought clenched them tighter and he had to sit down on the closed toilet seat. Washington would believe him but Washington had zero authority at Reynold’s firm. Mr. Madison would believe him, too, but again, little pull over the situation.

He needed advice. He couldn’t fight Greene alone.

With fifteen minutes before he needed to leave for law school, Jefferson called Washington. He apologized at once for the early intrusion. 

“You know I always have time for my boys,” Washington said. “What can I do for you?”

“You remember Nathanael Greene, right?” Jefferson chewed on his lip.

“Yes.” He’d been a foster boy on and off for almost a year a long time ago.

“He’s been harassing me at work. I don’t know what to do.”

Washington sighed. “Harassing you how?”

Jefferson explained the situation and his own fears of getting in trouble and no one believing him.

It took Washington a minute to reply, as his usual response of “I’ll take care of it” wouldn’t work. “Is there another supervisor you trust there?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“Talk to HR, Thomas,” Washington advised. “They can’t discriminate against you and it’s not right for you to be harassed. If they won’t listen, tell Jim.”

“I don’t want to play that card,” Jefferson mumbled. He didn’t need his almost father-in-law pulling any more string than he already had to get him the job.

“I’m certain it won’t come to that either way,” Washington said. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Yes, sir.” Jefferson hung up and grabbed his things for law school. During his brief break, he read up on workplace discrimination laws to arm himself with knowledge since he knew the laws were bound not to apply to him as a black man. He would have to throw out every rope he could to protect himself.

At the firm, Jefferson texted Angelica to let him in through one of the locked-from-the-outside doors so he could avoid Greene and go straight to HR.

“Good luck,” Angelica told him and crossed her fingers.

Upstairs, Jefferson knocked on the door for Human Resources. The woman was in her early forties with blonde hair and long manicured nails. The opposite of whom he figured would understand him.

“Um, I need to voice a concern,” Jefferson mumbled. “I’m not really sure what to do.”

“Take a seat, Thomas,” she said. 

He was surprised she knew his name and hoped that was a good sign. A sign that she would listen and understand, but feared it was because he’d been complained about many times instead.

“What can I help you with?”

“Um...” How did he even start? He hated to complain and now he was about to make a formal grievance about his supervisor. Maybe it wasn’t that serious. Greene just got in his bubble and touched him a few times and none had been that intimate. Greene would get bored and stop. There was no reason to involve HR. But as he shifted in his seat to stand and tell the woman never mind, the burning ache in his body reminded him of the fear. “Nathanael Greene.” He dug his nails into his palm. “He’s...” How could he even say it? It sounded so stupid coming from him, a 6’2 man. 

He pushed his aching body out of the chair. “Never mind. Sorry to waste your time.”

“Sit down, Thomas,” she said. “We take every complaint seriously here. Take your time and tell me what’s been going on.”

She’d get the story out of him and laugh. “Sorry.” Jefferson pushed the door open. He returned to his office and an expectant Angelica.

“How’d it go?”

Jefferson shook his head. “I couldn’t. She’d just belittle me.”

“No, T.” Angelica pursed her lips. “Greene won’t stop. He’ll escalate and you’ll get hurt.”

“Guess I’ll get hurt.” Jefferson sat at his desk and attempted to get through his workload.

A few minutes later, he received a text from Madison canceling his usual night at the apartment and asking if Jefferson would come over for dinner.

It would be a relief to be alone that night Jefferson thought and took a rain check on dinner. He could go to the gym and work out some more frustrations.

That night, he woke around two in the morning by a queasiness in his stomach. He hurried to the bathroom and puked in the toilet. 

The morning at law school dragged on and he couldn’t focus. Again, he asked Angelica to let him in from a side door.

“Tell on Greene,” she hissed at him. “You look like hell. Did you get any sleep?”

“Kept throwing up,” Jefferson said and walked around her.

“T, you’re a nervous wreck.” She hurried after him. “Have you told James any of this?”

“No.” He pushed open the door to their office.

“This won’t go away.” Angelica closed the door and stood in front of his desk. “You either tell HR or you quit.”

“Third option,” Jefferson said with a faint growl in his voice. “I tough it out.”

“If James was in your shoes—”

Jefferson stopped her. “The situations would never be remotely the same. Everyone would believe him in a heartbeat.” He checked messages on his answering machine.

“Two things,” Angelica said. “One, everyone you have told believes you. Two, James was in a similar situation. He knows about harassment. Don’t discredit him. You have to stop shielding him from reality. He is tougher than you think and you need him united with you on this. Talk to him.”

“Fine.” Jefferson set the work phone down. “Assuming I come out of this meeting with Greene alive.” He indicated to the phone where he’d listened to the message.

“Thomas, don’t go,” pleaded Angelica.

“It’s my job.” Jefferson dragged himself up and let the door slam behind him.

Greene remained seated at his desk when Jefferson walked in. “Close the door.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with the door closed,” Jefferson said. He struggled to stop himself blinking rapidly as he made eye contact.

“Fine.” Greene held out a manila envelope. 

“What is this?” Jefferson asked not taking it.

“Wow, your trust in me is great.”

“Why would I trust you?” Jefferson snapped.

Greene stood. “You’re so sensitive, you know that? That fiancé of yours is really working a number on you.” He threw the envelope at Jefferson. “It’s your health insurance paperwork. Have some faith for once.”

“Why in the world would I have faith in you?” Jefferson shouted and walked out.

He knew the second that door closed that he would pay for his behavior.

 

Madison was at the apartment when Jefferson returned home. Dinner was ready but Jefferson’s stomach hurt too much even to think about food.

“I wish you’d tell me when you’re coming over,” he said and got a beer out of the fridge.

“You seemed tired,” Madison said. “I didn’t want you to have to cook.” He searched Jefferson’s face. “What’s been going on, T? It’s not like you to be anxious. You can talk to me.”

Jefferson sat on the edge of his bed and nursed the beer can between his legs. “My supervisor has been harassing me. It’s not bad; he just gets in my space and makes me uncomfortable.”

“T, I’m sorry.” Madison sat next to him, legs tucked under. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He ran a finger along the rim of the beer can. “I didn’t want you to worry.” He sniffled. “I needed you to know I was strong.”

Madison wrapped his arms around his fiancé. “Nothing could make me think less of you. We’re a team.”

Jefferson closed his eyes. “You’re right.”

“What’re you going to do?” Madison stroked his cheek.

He shrugged. “Greene will stop eventually.”

“No, Thomas, he won’t.” Madison slipped off the bed to stand in front of his fiancé. “It’ll get worse. You know that. Please, find a way to protect yourself.”

“How?” Jefferson looked up from staring at the beer can. His eyebrows scrunched together as he looked into the worried blue eyes of the person he loved more than anyone. “If I tell him off more than I already have or if it escalates to a fight, I will get in trouble, Jem.”

“Please, don’t think like that.” Madison rested his hands over Jefferson’s. “If you’re discriminated against, you can sue. Your job knows that and won’t put themselves in such a position.” He stared into Jefferson’s eyes. “You’re almost a lawyer, you know this. You could fight it yourself in court if you had to.”

“I don’t want to fight anyone in court.” Jefferson dropped his gaze down again. “I just want to do my job.”

“I know.” Madison ran a finger along Jefferson’s jaw. “But you’re already over your head and this will only get worse. Talk to HR or Reynolds, please, Thomas.”

Jefferson sucked in a deep breath. “Okay.”

 

He never got the chance.

It was his shortest day at work and as Jefferson parked in the afternoon, Green cornered him in the parking lot.

“Why is it so hard for you to understand respect?” he demanded Jefferson while shoving him against a nearby car. 

“George Washington fostered you,” Jefferson said as he pushed back, his arms already burning with fatigue. “How do _you_ not understand respect?”

Greene didn’t answer and landed a punch against Jefferson’s jaw.

Anger coursing through him, Jefferson struggled not to lash out. Experience proved no one would side with him. It was pointless to fight. Everyone else may have believed he could get help but he still could not see it.

Greene kicked at him. “Washington could never fix everything,” he spat and a well-placed blow made Jefferson’s legs buckle and took him down. “He fails sometimes.” His boot collided hard with Jefferson’s ribs.

Something cracked and a shooting pain raced through Jefferson’s body. “What do you want, Nathanael?” he sputtered and tried to push himself up. “You won, okay? I’ll quit.”

Greene spat at him. “Good.” He walked away.

Even though he hadn’t prayed in a while, Jefferson sent up the most thankful of prayers. Greene could have hurt him much worse. Limping and clutching his side, Jefferson made it to his truck and drove to Montpelier. Work didn’t matter if he was going to quit anyway.

He parked in the garage and hoped he could make it to Mr. Madison’s office without seeing anyone and could wait for him to arrive home. He knew it was unlikely and at once found Mrs. Madison in the kitchen.

“Thomas,” she gasped. “Oh, my goodness, what happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jefferson said through a grimace. “Tell Jim I’m here when he gets home.” He limped through the kitchen. “I’ll be in his office.”

“Thomas!” Mrs. Madison followed and easily outpaced him. “What happened?”

“A guy at work,” he said and pressed his hand tighter against his ribs. “He’s been harassing me. I have to quit.”

“Oh, Thomas.” Her eyes softened as her shoulders drooped. “Jim should be home shortly. I’ll get you some ice.”

Once safely in the office, Jefferson sank into the nearest chair and closed his eyes. He refused to think of anything except the pain.

Mrs. Madison returned with several ice packs. “Where does it hurt?”

“Ribs and knee.” Jefferson pressed an ice pack against his side with a groan. “Is Jemmy home?”

“He’s hanging out with Jay at the Washington’s.”

“Good.” He would tell his fiancé later but right now, he couldn’t focus on how to deal with that.

Mrs. Madison knelt down and rolled up his pant leg above his swollen, purple knee.

Jefferson flinched as she pressed an ice pack wrapped in a towel against his skin.

They waited in silence until Mr. Madison arrived home. His first stop was always his office to put away his briefcase. 

“Goodness,” he exclaimed when he opened the door to find them. “Thomas, what happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Jefferson said. He grunted in pain as he shifted his weight. “I think my rib is cracked.”

Mr. Madison set down his briefcase. “Let me see.”

Jefferson unbuttoned his shirt and eased it off his sore shoulders. He lifted up his undershirt to expose the dark bruising on his side.

“Who did this?” Mr. Madison touched the bruise and made Jefferson flinch. “Sorry.”

“Your fingers are cold,” Jefferson said. “It was Greene, sir, my supervisor.”

Mr. Madison let out a deep sigh. “How long has this been going on?”

“It’s been escalating the past few weeks,” Jefferson said. He glanced between the Madison’s. “I didn’t know how to tell anyone.”

Mr. Madison nodded. “I understand.”

“Actually, I don’t think you do.” Jefferson winced as he put weight on his bad knee to push himself up straighter. “You’re white. Even though you’re male and probably wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re being harassed, you have a better chance of anyone believing you. There’s a strong likelihood I will be the one in trouble because I’m black.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” Mr. Madison said. “You always have my support and belief, son. I will always fight for you.”

“I know, sir.” Jefferson pressed the ice pack back against his side. “What do I do?”

“Go straight to Reynolds. He’ll believe you, I promise.”

Jefferson nodded. “I told Greene I would quit.”

“Let Reynolds handle him.” Mr. Madison looked at his wife. “Give us a few minutes.”

Mrs. Madison stood and patted Jefferson on the shoulder. 

When the door closed, Mr. Madison sat on the edge of his desk. “What else has Greene been doing?”

“Borderline sexual harassment,” Jefferson said. “Getting in my space, touching me, insulting Jemmy. I thought I could handle it but I started throwing up at night. I can’t function.”

“I wish society was such that you could have told right away,” Mr. Madison said. “Let me take you to the doctor so you can get x-rays. Hopefully, it’s nothing more than a crack.”

“Yes, sir.”


	103. Chapter 103

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemmy goes shopping

It was only a cracked rib and Jefferson was certain his ego took a harder hit. He spoke to Reynolds the next day and his boss was quick to act and confront Greene. Greene was fired that day.

“See? You can trust people,” Madison told him as he did the dishes that night.

“My reasons are still valid,” Jefferson replied. He stopped a yawn. “At least I still have my job.” He watched his fiancé. “Are you staying here tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Madison put the plates away. “I can manage.”

He’d been doing good at staying a few days and nights a week. Staying by himself during the day remained the hardest. He took to cleaning but usually only had the energy for an hour’s worth of work. The rest of the time, he watched TV and fretted over every noise he heard. He wasn’t sure if being alone or realizing he’d never been alone before felt worse.

Jefferson smiled. “I like coming home to you.”

Madison put away the last dish and kissed him. “A cat would help.”

“Ugh.” He pressed his palm against Madison’s forehead and pushed him away.

 

The next afternoon, Madison set his laptop on the kitchen counter and searched for recipes that accommodated Jefferson’s meager food supply. Irate that he wouldn’t be able to fix anything decent, he decided to walk to the corner market a few blocks away. He’d never gone anywhere by himself before but was determined to make his fiancé a decent meal. He made a list on his phone and headed off.

Outside the apartment building, Madison froze as the noise of traffic overwhelmed him. People walked passed him and a woman’s purse knocked against his arm.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to move. As he entered the store, the realization that he’d never been grocery-shopping hit him. His face reddened with how stupid he felt and he didn’t know where even to begin. His hands shook as he grabbed a shopping cart.

Signs helped, but he ended up going back and forth across the store to find everything he needed. It was getting late; he wouldn’t have time to get the meal started, let alone have it ready.

He chewed on his lip and tapped his fingers on the shopping cart handle. Where the fuck was soy sauce? He couldn’t ask and his eyes ached with fatigue and anxiety as he shuffled through the aisles again.

Finally, he found the bottle and hurried to the checkout.

“Find everything?” the cashier asked.

Madison nodded as he fumbled with his wallet and pried out his father’s credit card. He swiped the card and clenched his fingers to stop the shaking. He looked at the pile of bags he’d somehow have to carry bag and he wanted to give up and call Jefferson to rescue him.

Resisting the tears that still wanted to flow, Madison looped the bags on his arms and headed back to the apartment and started going in the wrong direction. A block out of the way, he realized his mistake and turned around, gritting his teeth to stop the tears. Each step was slower and his arms and shoulders ached.

He knew it was late but was startled to see Jefferson unlocking the front door to the apartment building. Too anxious, Madison couldn’t call out to him but Jefferson glanced back before he shut the door.

“Jem! What’ve you been up to?” He took the bags and scanned Madison’s tired face and red cheeks.

“I wanted to make dinner,” Madison whispered and tears spilled down his cheeks. “It’s scary out there.”

Jefferson looped the bags over one arm and lifted Madison with the other. “I know, babe. I’m proud of you, though. I’ll help you get dinner.”

Once in the quiet, familiar apartment, Madison calmed down and helped Jefferson cut up chicken and vegetables while a pot of rice cooked.

Jefferson poured some wine once the food was ready. “You deserve this.”

“I know I do,” Madison said and took a sip.

They talked about their day through dinner and did the dishes. Afterward, they immersed themselves on the internet until bedtime, where they read for a little bit before going to sleep.

When Jefferson rolled over in the middle of the night and touched Madison to make sure he breathed—the habit he’d developed long ago—he noted how hot he felt. Yet Madison was curled in a tight ball and shivering.

Jefferson turned on a light and touched Madison’s forehead.

Madison’s eyes fluttered and he mumbled Jefferson’s name.

“You’re feverish, babe.” Jefferson got out of bed and fetched the thermometer from the bathroom.

“I’m freezing,” Madison whimpered.

“I know,” Jefferson soothed. “Let me take your temp and I’ll get you another blanket.”

Madison took the thermometer and Jefferson rubbed his back until it beeped. _101_.

Jefferson sighed and got Tylenol and another blanket. Madison fell back asleep as soon as Jefferson stopped bothering him. Jefferson remained awake. It was only after two in the morning and he had to work at eight but he couldn’t let himself sleep.

He got up to get his laptop and did some work he’d been putting off. He touched Madison’s forehead every few minutes and watched him take a breath.

Knowing Mr. Madison was an early riser, Jefferson texted him a little after five while he made himself a pot of coffee.

Mr. Madison soon replied. _I’ll tell Eleanor to pick him up. She can watch him while you’re at work._

Jefferson sent an okay and returned to observing Madison. He sipped coffee and rubbed his gritty eyes. He almost dozed off around six-thirty just before Madison woke.

He pushed Jefferson’s hand away and kicked back the blankets. “I’m hot,” he whined.

“I know.” Jefferson managed to touch his forehead. “Let me take your temperature again. Your mom is going to take you home.”

“I wanna stay with you.” Madison pulled off his sweaty pajama top and threw his pillow on the floor.

“I have to work.” Jefferson popped the thermometer in Madison’s mouth. Still one-hundred and one. He soaked a washcloth and wiped down his fiancé’s back and neck. He grabbed some dry clothes, which Madison pitched a fit about.

“It’s too hot!” Madison complained and threw the clothes on the floor. He shoved the blankets further back, too, and tossed off Jefferson’s pillow.

“Fine,” Jefferson said. “I don’t have the energy for this.” He got himself ready for work, poured more coffee, and fixed himself a bagel to eat while he waited for Mrs. Madison.

She soon texted that she was outside.

Jefferson scooped Madison off the bed.

“You’re too hot!” Madison complained and pushed himself away.

“Are you going to walk to the car then?” Jefferson asked.

“No,” Madison pouted and relented to being carried.

Jefferson buckled him in the Corvette. “I think he overdid it yesterday,” Jefferson told Mrs. Madison. “He went to the store by himself to get groceries for dinner.”

“Wow, I’m impressed,” said Mrs. Madison. She watched her son already dozing off in the passenger seat. “Some independence is good for him. Do you know if he took any rescue anxiety meds yesterday?”

“I don’t think so.” Jefferson stopped a yawn. “He got back the same time I did and he was in tears but he perked up pretty fast, although we did have wine. I know he hates being alone.”

“He’ll learn to cope.” Mrs. Madison patted Jefferson’s arm. “I’m sure you want to get to work. I’ll text you when he wakes.”

“Thanks.”

The day dragged on. Mrs. Madison texted late in the morning to say Madison’s fever had broken but he was still exhausted. Jefferson could barely stay awake himself and took a nap on his lunch hour. 

It didn’t refresh him, though, and made him groggier through the afternoon, and he spent most of it on his phone browsing through his favorites apps.

“Good thing it’s slow,” Angelica commented as she watched Jefferson.

“You know I’d do stuff if it was critical,” Jefferson replied. He set his phone down. “I can barely see straight I’m so tired.”

“I know, hon. Just giving you crap.” Angelica stapled some papers. “If you want to leave a half hour early, I’ll cover for you.”

“Thanks.” Jefferson pulled out a stack of claims from a plastic tray and leafed through. He filed a few things, checked his emails, replied to one, and returned to his phone.

He slipped out at four-thirty with a promise to Angelica to buy her coffee tomorrow morning.

He parked in his usual spot at Montpelier and let himself in. Quietly, he hurried up to Madison’s room.

Madison was awake and watching TV with Nelly.

“Hey, Jem,” Jefferson approached the bed and kissed his cheek. He touched his forehead and found it cool. “Hi, Nelly.”

Nelly smiled as a blush crept up her cheeks.

Madison clutched Jefferson’s hand.

“How are you feeling?” Jefferson asked. He sat on the edge of the bed.

“Tired,” Madison murmured. 

“You look worn out,” Jefferson admitted as he studied Madison’s pale face and dark circles under his eyes. His hand had a faint tremor beneath Jefferson’s. “Can I get you anything?”

Madison shook his head.

“He hasn’t eaten anything today,” Nelly said.

“Has he had anything to drink?” Jefferson asked her.

“A little water,” she said. “Mom’s threatening to take him to the hospital for fluids if he doesn’t start drinking.”

Jefferson nodded. “You have to stay hydrated with a fever, love.” He stroked Madison’s face. “What sounds good to you?”

Madison shrugged.

“Jem...”

“Orange juice, I guess,” Madison said. “I might eat some pizza.”

Jefferson smiled. “Okay. What kind?”

“Cheese, and breadsticks from the local pizzeria.”

Jefferson chuckled. “Of course, you can never be easy.” He kissed Madison’s head. “I’ll order you pizza and get you juice.”

“Thank you.” Madison pulled his blanket out from under his covers and handed it over.

Jefferson took it. “Put it in the freezer for you?”

Madison nodded.

Jefferson kissed him again and left the room. He ordered the pizza and breadsticks as he headed downstairs. He stuck the worn baby blanket in the freezer, and poured a glass of orange juice and stuck a straw in the glass.

“Oh, Thomas, I didn’t know you were here,” Mrs. Madison said coming in the kitchen with Reuben on her hip. “Did Jemmy perk up when he saw you?”

“He asked for pizza and juice,” Jefferson said. “Nelly said he hadn’t eaten or drank anything today.”

Mrs. Madison nodded. She set Reuben down and filled a sippy cup with milk for him. “I don’t know if he’s just exhausted or if this is the start of something else. Hopefully, he’ll eat and drink now.”

“Yeah,” Jefferson agreed. “I ordered enough pizza for everyone for dinner. It’ll be here in an hour or so.”

Mrs. Madison smiled. “Thank you, Thomas. Better take that up to Jemmy.” She indicated to the glass.

Jefferson headed back upstairs.

Nelly had left and Madison had his eyes closed. Jefferson touched his shoulder. “Sit up, babe.”

Madison’s arms trembled as he pushed himself up.

Jefferson’s brow creased with worry. Not eating for one day shouldn’t have made him that weak. He held the cup while Madison sipped through the straw. He stopped after a few small swallows.

Jefferson set the glass down and went around the bed to sit next to him.

Madison leaned against him and closed his eyes.

Jefferson held his hand and prayed, _please don’t die on me, Jemmy._ Tiredness reclaimed his body and enhanced his emotions. A tear spilled down his cheek before he could wipe it away.

“T?” Madison said softly.

Jefferson swiped at his cheek. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, Jem.” He struggled to swallow. “I just love you so much and hate when you’re sick.”

Madison cuddled closer. “I’ll be okay.” He coughed and closed his eyes.

Jefferson shook him. “Jem!”

“What?” Madison grumbled and glared at him.

Jefferson exhaled. “Sorry. I’m just anxious. I think we should take you to the hospital.”

“Pizza first,” Madison said as he coughed again.

Jefferson bit his lip. Was his gut telling him the truth or just freaking out because of how often Madison was sick? He pulled his phone out and called Mrs. Madison.

“Is everything okay, Thomas?” she asked.

“He’s coughing,” answered Jefferson. “I want to take him to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Mrs. Madison agreed at once. “I’ll go with you. Nelly and Ambrose can watch the little ones until their dad gets home.” She hung up.

Jefferson pocketed his phone and got off the bed. Madison protested being picked up.

“I’m fine!” he insisted. “Just tired.”

His fragile body felt warm again to Jefferson as he ignored the protests and carried his fiancé downstairs.

Mrs. Madison was ready in the kitchen. Nelly held Reuben, a frown on her face. “Have Ambrose answer the door for the pizza,” Mrs. Madison instructed. “Tell Daddy to call me when he gets home.”

Jefferson headed for the garage and situated Madison in the back seat and sat next to him.

Mrs. Madison called the hospital as she drove.

As soon as Jefferson set Madison in the wheelchair at the hospital, he seized. His fragile body jerked in the chair. Nurses rushed to assist and wheeled him away leaving Mrs. Madison and Jefferson alone in the hallway near the waiting room. She clutched Jefferson’s arm, her fingers like ice.

Jefferson guided her to sit down. He closed his eyes against a rush of tears and took deep breaths.


	104. Chapter 104

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> COPD

It took two hours before Madison was stabilized. Jefferson made the usual call to inform the Washington’s. Mrs. Washington headed to Montpelier to watch the children while Washington drove Mr. Madison to the hospital. Hamilton tagged along and found Jefferson in an empty waiting room.

“How’s our little duck?” he asked in a soft voice.

“His lungs are trashed.” Jefferson closed his eyes as he tried not to think. Even though Madison had decent control over his asthma, his overall crappy immune system had accelerated the damage to his lungs. “He has chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. It’s what people who smoke for decades can get.” He tugged at his hair and met Hamilton’s gaze with shimmering eyes. “Alex, this will kill him.”

Hamilton swallowed and struggled to catch his breath. “No.” Tears spilled down his cheeks. “Like…” He bit hard into his lip not wanting to know the answer to his next question. “How long?”

“If he responds well to medication and changes his diet and lifestyle a bit—” Jefferson sucked in a deep breath “—ten years top. If he gets pneumonia or a lung infection…”

“Shit.” Hamilton sucked in a ragged breath.

Jefferson pulled his friend closer and squeezed him tight as he broke down, his body shaking as his tears soaked into Hamilton’s shirt. “I can’t live without him.”

“I know, T,” Hamilton whispered as his own tears spilled unchecked down his cheeks.

It took some time before either had control of his emotions. Jefferson slumped into a chair and stared blindly at the wall. “More fats and fewer carbohydrates are supposed to help,” he said in a bland voice. “Something about carbs creating more carbon dioxide. He’ll have to limit his sugar intake.”

“Shit.” Hamilton stroked Jefferson’s hand. “That’s going to devastate him.”

Jefferson nodded. His phone rang and his body tensed as he answered the call from Mr. Madison.

“Jemmy’s asking for you,” Mr. Madison said. “Room 303.”

“Okay.” Jefferson hung up and looked at Hamilton. “I won’t be able to look at him without crying.”

Hamilton squeezed his friend’s hand. “It’s okay to cry. Jemmy will understand.”

Taking a deep breath, Jefferson stood and pulled Hamilton up with him. They found room 303. The Madison’s were inside talking to a nurse while Washington sat next to Madison and rubbed his arm. He got out of the way as Jefferson barreled toward his fiancé and kissed him.

Neither had words to say and just held each other.

Washington wrapped his arms around his son and held him tight, jaw clenched to keep control of his own emotions. He was thirty-four-years older than Madison and had heart disease. How was he still alive while their precious Jemmy had maybe a decade left? Sure, any one of them could die the next day but Madison didn’t deserve this. He loved life too much.

***

Madison cried all day when Jefferson informed him of the new diet he’d have to follow. He would need to eat whole-grains and proteins, plenty of whole milk and cheese to keep his weight up and limit his sugar intake. No one looked forward to the change and keeping his already underweight body at a decent weight would be a challenge.

“You can still have some sugar,” Jefferson attempted to console him. “Just keep it to one piece of cake or cookie a day.”

“What am I supposed to eat?” Madison wailed. The COPD diagnosis had fazed him a lot less than this. “I don’t like other food.”

“I know.” Jefferson stroked his pale face. “You can have chocolate milk and your mom is going to find you some shakes. There are lots of good proteins and fruit is yummy.”

“Only dipped in chocolate,” Madison sobbed. “I’d rather die.”

“James,” Jefferson said in a fierce tone.

“Sorry.” Madison laced their fingers together. “I’ll eat healthy foods. I’ll outlive you, I promise.”

Jefferson kissed his forehead. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Each day revolved around Madison’s medication and meals. Jefferson slacked on his schooling to help and spend as much time as he could with his fiancé. He began to think about moving out of his apartment and into Montpelier. He didn’t want Madison alone there nor did he want to be alone himself.

At least, he thought with grim satisfaction, he didn’t have to deal with Greene anymore. Work didn’t add to his stress and Reynold’s was understanding of him needing fewer hours for a couple of weeks.

Madison’s medication stabilized him but Jefferson struggled to sleep at night certain he would roll over and the only person he cared about wouldn’t be breathing.


	105. Chapter 105

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy Lams

A week later, Hamilton and Laurens woke late on Saturday morning and headed downstairs half undressed. They’d spent several hours before falling asleep discussing their own mortality and what the other should do. They came to no consensus and thoroughly depressed themselves that morning sex was the only cure.

 Washington sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and his iPad. Mrs. Washington cut up vegetables and meat to put in the crock-pot for a stew. The dogs hovered around her waiting for anything to fall. Jay had gone to the library to finish a school project with fewer distractions.

“Morning, boys,” Washington said. “Sleep well?”

“Tolerably,” Hamilton said. Potato ran over to lick his bare feet and legs.

“Alex kicks,” Laurens said. He only wore a large t-shirt that Washington was certain was his own. He also was positive Laurens wore nothing underneath and he made a mental note to burn the shirt if he got it back. Laurens sat at the kitchen table and tucked his legs on the chair before Potato could lick him.

“There’s a remedy for that,” Washington mused. “You boys need to fix your own breakfast.”

Hamilton opened kitchen cupboards. “Poptarts or cereal, John?”

“Poptarts,” Laurens said.

Hamilton climbed on the kitchen counter to reach the top shelf and grabbed the box. “We’re you trying to keep me out of these?” he asked Washington.

“Trying and failing, obviously,” Washington replied.

“Make sure you have some milk,” Mrs. Washington said and dumped a handful of raw carrots in the crock-pot. She saved five pieces and gave one to each dog.

Laurens got off his chair to pour the milk while Hamilton put the poptarts in the toaster. He set the filled glasses on the table and stood behind Hamilton and slipped his hands under his boyfriend’s t-shirt.

Hamilton tilted his head back against him. “What’cha doing, Jack?” he whispered.

“Messing with you,” Laurens murmured and started to inch his fingers into Hamilton’s boxers.

Hamilton jumped when the toaster popped.

Breakfast preparations finished, they sat back at the table.

“Need us to do anything today?” Hamilton asked his dad.

Washington set his iPad down and took off his reading glasses. “Hmm, the backyard could be raked and poop-scooped.”

“We can do that,” Hamilton agreed. “Right, John?”

“Sure,” Laurens said while glaring at Hamilton.

“Thank you, boys,” Washington said.

They finished breakfast and headed upstairs to change. They were soon charging back downstairs and running out the back door. Washington followed to make sure they knew where the rakes were. He needn’t have worried as Hamilton had organized the shed himself a few summers ago.

Laurens took a rake and started at one side of the yard. He went barefoot, wearing shorts and a v-neck t-shirt, his curls in a low ponytail. Despite his annoyance over being volunteered for the task, his handsome, freckled face settled into contentment as he worked.

Hamilton, since he was always cold wore jeans and a flannel shirt, and went wild with the rake and almost made a bigger mess.

Washington pulled his phone out and took a few pictures of them working before he returned inside.

Hamilton and Laurens did yard work until noon when Mrs. Washington called them in for lunch. Sandwich fixings and water were set out on the table.

“How much is left to do?” Washington asked Hamilton.

“Just a little left to bag,” Hamilton answered as he slathered mayonnaise on a piece of bread.

“Good. Martha and I need to run to Target if you boys want to come along.”

Hamilton looked at Laurens who shrugged.

“Sure,” Hamilton said.

“We’ll go when you buys are ready then,” Washington said.

After lunch, the boys bagged the last pile of leaves, freshened up and were ready to go forty-five minutes later.

Washington drove to the nearby shopping center. In the store, he pushed the cart while Mrs. Washington browsed and checked her list. Hamilton and Laurens walked behind making fun of stuff on the shelves.

“So,” Laurens slipped his hand in Hamilton’s, “is that going to be us in thirty years?” He indicated to the Washington’s debating over whether to get the paper towels that came in half-sheet sizes or only full-size sheets.

“If we look like that in our fifties,” Hamilton said, “I’m going to have issues.”

Laurens rolled his eyes.

“We always use a full sheet anyway,” Washington argued. “Why bother with the ones that tear in two?”

“That’s because you’re wasteful,” Mrs. Washington retorted. “The small ones are useful.” She put the package in the cart and checked her list. “Napkins.”

“Which one of us is always going to be right, though?” Laurens asked Hamilton.

“Me,” Hamilton said. “Obviously. I’m always right.”

“You’re confusing that with always being a dick.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining this morning.” Hamilton grinned at him.

“Because it was in my mouth,” Laurens said. “How could I talk?”

“True.”

In the pet aisle, Mrs. Washington loaded up on soft dog treats and a few cans of wet food for the oldest of the pack. Then it was on to toiletries.

“Do you boys need anything?” she asked. “Soap, shampoo, razors, deodorant?”

“I’m good,” Hamilton said.

“Yeah,” Laurens agreed.

Mrs. Washington chuckled. “Neither of you threw out the empty soap bottle then?”

“Oh,” Laurens said. “Yeah, probably need soap.”

They turned into the aisle and Laurens stared at the options. He looked at Hamilton. “What kind do I usually use?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Hamilton said.

Washington cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” Hamilton mumbled.

Mrs. Washington picked a bottle off the shelf. “This one, dear?”

Laurens opened the top to sniff it. “I think so.”

Washington patted his shoulder. “You boys are a mess.”

“We’re going to be a mess forever,” Hamilton grumbled. “Neither of us is a Jemmy.”

“Don’t expect it to be me,” Laurens said, as Hamilton looked his way. “I have better hair and I shave but that doesn’t mean I’m fem. Plus I’m a top.”

“Let’s not have this conversation in Target,” Washington said and ushered the boys onward. “What else do we need, Martha dear?”

The group continued through the rest of the store as Mrs. Washington picked out some new candles and replaced a crochet hook that went missing.

“Dad, can I get a pop?” Hamilton asked as they got in line.

Washington glanced at him. “I suppose.”

“What about me, Dad?” Laurens asked with a grin.

“You can share.”

“Can I get candy then?” Laurens pleaded as he leaned on the cart.

“What do you think, Martha dear?” Washington asked. “Have they behaved enough to warrant pop _and_ candy?”

Mrs. Washington smiled. “I think so, George.”

Hamilton and Laurens picked out their treats.

Once paid for and at the car, the boys loaded the purchases in the trunk and got in the backseat. They shared the pop and candy on the drive home.


	106. Chapter 106

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitten Shower!

_Thomas said I could get a cat!_ Madison texted Jefferson’s sisters. _We need to plan that kitten shower._

June had arrived and Jefferson decided his fiancé didn’t deserve to wait any longer and relented on getting the cat. As he often did after a major illness, Madison grew determined to experience everything possible and insisted on continuing his stays at the apartment. And had upped his request for the cat.

The girls concurred and the guest list grew.

Madison went all out on planning the kitten shower. It would be at his house in their formal dining room with a dainty lunch and cupcakes. Jane and Marty J agreed at once to come but Mary had a prior engagement. Angelica would come and asked if Theodosia could join since she liked cats. Madison agreed. Jay and Bree were invited, too, and Nelly was deemed mature enough, making her ecstatic since she knew she’d have been stuck minding the little ones to keep them away from the party otherwise.

All the guys were invited, as well, but Laurens had to work and Jefferson found a bunch of assignments he needed to finish. Burr didn’t want to intrude. That left Hamilton who had no excuse and was excited to go anyway.

He went over early on Saturday to help Madison set up and spend time with his little duck.

Madison had ordered balloons online that said _It’s a kitten!_ He and Hamilton arranged them in the room and on the table. They hung purple streamers from the fancy chandelier and on the mahogany chairs. Name cards went on the table along with the party favors: small crocheted mice Mrs. Washington had made (which doubled as an actual cat toy), a bag of candy in a package that made it look like cat treats, and cat rubber duckies.

As party time drew nearer, Nelly helped them set out the food. Tiny triangle sandwiches filled with either meat and cheese slices, cream cheese spreads or cucumbers; a fruit bouquet with pineapples made to look like cats; a vegetable tray; petit fours; and the cupcakes with cat faces made with candy.

“This is quite the event,” Hamilton said with a grin as he examined the finished table.

“Social event of the year,” Madison said.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Aren’t you getting married this year, too?”

“Oh, right.” Madison grinned. “Don’t tell Thomas I said that.”

Hamilton grabbed him in a hug. “Little duck.” He kissed his head and never wanted to let go. “All grown up.”

“Not all the way,” Madison insisted. 

The doorbell rang and he wiggled free to answer it.

Jane and Marty J greeted him with hugs and exclaimed over the decorations.

“I know you said no gifts,” Jane said and handed him a present, “but this was too cute to pass up.”

Madison beamed. “Thank you.” He peeked in the bag at the Pusheen blanket before giving it to Hamilton to find a place to set it as the doorbell rang again. 

Jay stepped inside anxiously twisting her bracelet.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Madison said. “You look perfect.”

“Thanks.” Jay tugged at her silk blouse. “I’m still getting used to dressing how I want. You sure I look okay?”

“I wish I looked half as good.” Madison grabbed her hand. “Come on. I’ll show you you’re spot. You get to sit next to me.”

As soon as Madison was in the dining room, the doorbell rang a third time.

“I’ll get it,” Hamilton said as he noticed Madison looking out of breath. He opened the front door. “Bree!”

They embraced each other and held on.

“Marty J told me a bit about what happened with Washington’s mom,” Bree murmured. “I’m so sorry, Alex.”

“I’m strong now,” Hamilton said. “I’m doing really well.”

Bree eased her grasp on him to pull back enough to see his face. “I’m glad. You deserve that so much. I heard you and Jake are together?”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “John.”

Bree grinned.

“Knock, knock,” Angelica said as she pushed open the half-closed door. “Hey, Bree!”

While they greeted each other, Hamilton mumbled a hello to Theodosia. As if it wasn’t weird enough that he’d dated her boyfriend he had to now work for her ex-husband. 

“This is for James.” Theodosia handed him a present. “Hairy Harry has one and loves it so I thought his cat might want one, too.”

“What is it?” Hamilton asked.

“This weird toy that moves,” she said. “I don’t get it but Harry is crazy about it. Entertains Aaron, too.”

“Huh, not surprised.” He showed the women into the dining room. 

Theodosia brought her camera and took pictures of everything while the others exclaimed over Madison and the decorations.

The group soon found their seats thanks to the fancy cat-shaped name cards. Madison sat at the head with Jay and Bree on either side. Angelica and Jane sat next to each other across from Theodosia, Marty J, and Nelly. Hamilton sat at the foot.

The food was met with delight and everyone had fun sampling the different mini sandwiches. While eating, everyone caught up on each other’s jobs and schooling.

“Is Thomas behaving himself as you sort-of boss?” Marty J asked Angelica. “Like we tell James, we know all his weaknesses and can take him down.”

Angelica chuckled. “No, he’s good.” She looked at Madison. “Is he going to want a bachelor party? I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do as his best gal.”

“I don’t think he wants a party,” Madison said. “Maybe dinner with his friends.” He stared across the table at Hamilton. “I want a princess tea party, Alex.”

Hamilton choked on his mini sandwich. “What?”

“Princess tea party,” he repeated. “Everyone dresses up in fancy outfits and has a nice dinner.”

“Okay.” Hamilton sighed with relief that it wasn’t the Disney princess pink overload he pictured.

“I get a tiara, though.”

Hamilton smiled. “Of course.”

Madison bit into an apple slice and tried not to make a face. “I’ll talk to Thomas but we could probably just do one party since neither of us is into the drinking and strippers thing. Pre-wedding dinner tea party.”

“That sounds really cool,” Angelica said.

Everyone else at the table agreed. 

“Do you have a theme for the wedding?” Jay asked.

“It’s a secret,” Madison said and stared at the plate of petit fours.

“Thomas isn’t helping?” Nelly questioned.

He caved and grabbed a mini cake. “He wouldn’t know what to do.”

“You should let him pick out something,” Hamilton said. “His gay card might get revoked otherwise.”

Madison rolled his eyes. “Do you or John know anything about decorating or themes?”

“Touché.”

“I can plan it for you.”

“I’ll let you know after I see yours,” Hamilton said with a grin. He hoped Jefferson was prepared for lots of unicorns and glitter.

Madison turned his attention to Angelica and Jane. “How are things going with you guys?”

“Awesome,” Angelica said and smiled at her girlfriend.

Jane squeezed her hand. “Just wish we lived closer to each other.”

“What about you, Theodosia?” Hamilton asked. “Do you think you’ll marry Aaron?”

Theodosia almost choked on a bite of pineapple. She took a drink of water while everyone stared at her awaiting the answer. “He still has another year or two of growing up to do, then we’ll see.  He’s awesome with Harry, though, so he has potential.”

“Do you want kids?” Angelica asked.

“Maybe.” Theodosia watched her glass. “Jacques never made it very enticing to consider having children. It’s something new for me to think about. You?”

“I hope so.” She grinned at her girlfriend.

“T and I are only having cats,” Madison spoke up. “Children are crazy.”

“I’m with you,” Marty J said.

“I don’t think I want kids either,” said Bree. “ _Maybe_ with the right guy. What about you, Jay?”

“Nah,” she said. “At least not for a long time.”

“Well, I want lots of kids,” Nelly declared. 

“Same,” Hamilton agreed.

When everyone was stuffed, the group moved onto games. The first was to guess the different cat breeds. Theodosia impressed Madison with her knowledge and was the only competition for him. Everyone else could distinguish little more than Persian and Spinx. Hamilton proved the worst by naming them “smush-face cat”, “naked cat”, “short-hair cat”, and “no-tail cat.” Angelica fared little better but at least put in a few breed names even if they were for the wrong cat.

Then it was on to naming cat colors with little better results.

“You guys are all a disgrace to the feline community,” Madison declared. “Except you, Theodosia. You and Hairy Harry are very welcome.”

Theodosia smiled.

By then, everyone had digested their meal enough to play Pin the Tail on the Cat. At that, though, Madison did not succeed. While Angelica spun him only a few times, he became hopelessly off balance and stumbled into Hamilton five feet from the cat and the tail stuck to Hamilton’s face as Madison tripped.

“Well, I call that a win,” Bree said.

Theodosia was quick with her camera and captured Hamilton with a tail made out of a feathery cat toy stuck to his chin.

Cupcakes were devoured after the games followed by more chitchat. 

“Does it feel like,” Angelica asked, “that you and T have been together longer than four years?”

Madison nodded his head dramatically as he got frosting all over his face biting into his second cupcake with no regrets. “It feels like we’ve been together close to ten years.”

“When you were twelve?” Hamilton teased.

“Fine, maybe eight.” He licked frosting off his lips. “It probably feels like you’ve been with John longer than a year, doesn’t it?”

“Definitely.” Hamilton chewed on his lip. “I don’t know when our anniversary is.”

“Fail,” scolded Bree. “Jake does not deserve that.”

“I doubt he remembers either.” He grinned at Madison. “Yours is easy since it’s also your birthday.”

“Plus you know when you truly got together,” Theodosia said. “I’m not sure when I’m supposed to consider my anniversary with Aaron.”

“The day he doesn’t do something stupid,” Hamilton teased.

Theodosia’s eyes widened. “That could be never.”

“My condolences,” Hamilton said in a formal tone. 

No one wanted to leave and lingered over another cupcake or another glass of punch.

Finally, Angelica decided it was time to head home. “We should get going, Theodosia. One of us needs to feed Aaron.”

Theodosia stood. “True.”

Madison followed them to the door and thanked them for coming.

“I’ll send you the pictures I took,” Theodosia said.

“I appreciate it.” Madison hugged her. “I would really like you and Aaron to come to my wedding. He and John did fine at my parent’s anniversary party.”

She squeezed him tight. “We’ll do our best to be there.”

Jay was next to leave, then the Jefferson sisters. As the sisters headed outside, they called out to Jefferson coming up the front steps. 

“We love Jemmy even more than you now,” Jane told him.

“I plan to replace you with Angelica,” Jefferson retorted. He let the front door close behind him and scooped up his fiancé. “How was your party?”

“Awesome!” Madison kissed him.

Jefferson carried him into the dining room where little Madison children had descended to pick at the leftovers. Hamilton had Bess in his arms while she ate a cupcake and he chatted with Bree. “Did you save me anything?” Jefferson asked.

“Of course.” Madison bopped his nose. “I set aside a plate for you earlier. It’s in the fridge.”

“No wonder I’m going to raise cats with you.” Jefferson held him a little longer, a little tighter and prayed as hard as he could that they would get to raise dozens of cats together.


	107. Chapter 107

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily and Grace

“How can I help you?” greeted a young woman as Jefferson and Madison walked into the animal shelter. Her nametag read Katie.

Madison tucked himself behind his fiancé, prompting Jefferson to answer. “We’re looking to adopt a kitten.”

“We have some kittens available in the kitten tower.” Katie pointed left to the large PVC pipe structure with multiple kittens scampering around. “We also have several litters in foster care if you’re looking for a specific color or gender. We’ll have a bunch of litters coming back ready for adoption in a few weeks.”

Jefferson looked back at Madison. “Anything specific, Jem?”

Madison shook his head.

“We’ll take a look at what you got,” Jefferson told Katie.

She smiled. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

Madison scurried ahead of Jefferson toward the kitty enclosure. He watched two kittens wrestle each other. Another climbed up the mesh walls. Two more played with toys on the bottom floor. One slept in a hammock on the top level. 

“They’re so energetic,” Madison whispered.

Jefferson rested his hands on Madison’s shoulders. “You don’t have to get a kitten. A cat that’s a few years old would be okay. As long as it loves you and tolerates me, I don’t care which one you want.”

Madison nodded. “Can you pick me up? I can’t see the one that’s sleeping very well.”

Jefferson lifted Madison under the arms and held him up for a minute to watch the sleeping gray kitten.

“I want to look at the rest of the cats,” Madison said plucking at his lip in thought.

Jefferson followed him into the cat room. Small cages were set into one wall. Larger moveable cages were stacked near the door. A few cats were free to roam about the room.

Madison moved along each cage slowly. Some cats reached out to swipe or grab him, while most remained asleep or eating.

Jefferson took a seat in a chair near a window. He watched his fiancé study the cats and read their names and ages on cards hanging from the bars of the cages. 

A fat torbie sauntered over to Jefferson and yowled at him.

“I take it this is your chair?” Jefferson asked it.

The cat yowled again.

“I think she likes you,” Madison said. He moved away from the cages and knelt on the floor near the fat cat. She sniffed his hand and bumped her head against him.

“How do you know it’s a girl?” Jefferson asked.

“Torbies are always female,” answered Madison. “Unless she’s a mutant.”

The girl who had greeted them earlier came in the room. “See any you like?”

“All of them,” Madison whispered.

Katie smiled. “What kind of cat are you looking for? Like, what kind of temperament?”

Madison looked at Jefferson to answer as the large cat pawed at him for more attention.

“Something easy-going,” Jefferson said. “We both have a lot of siblings so we’d like something that’s not going to freak out too much if a large crowd is over. Plus, we don’t live together yet so it’ll be traveling back and forth with James for the next few months.” He indicated to Madison on the floor.

Katie nodded. “What will be the cat’s primary residence?”

“My apartment,” Jefferson said. “So nothing that’s going to be too loud or a door-dasher. I think we might be leaning toward an older cat now, something a few years old.”

“Leah, there, is five,” Katie pointed to the torbie. She looked at the cages and pointed out a few others. “Those ones are fairly mellow but still spunky.”

Madison looked at Jefferson and murmured, “I want someone that will play with toys.”

“Spunky would be good,” Jefferson told the employee.

“I’ll let a few out and you can see what you think.” She pulled out a keychain and unlocked several cages.

Cats jumped out and stretched. One immediately went for some toys on the floor and batted them about. Another went for the back counter and found a bowl of food. The third pranced toward Madison, tail in the air. 

Madison watched the cats, pinching his bottom lip.

Katie moved closer to Jefferson’s chair and opened another cage. She indicated to Jefferson’s ring. “How long have you two been together?”

Jefferson’s mind blanked. “Like four years? We’re getting married in October.”

“A fall wedding will be lovely.”

Jefferson smiled. 

Leah the cat jumped in his lap and kneaded his leg.

“I’ll admit I don’t know anything about cats,” he said as Leah purred and mushed at his cargo pants. “James is the cat person. I’m just paying.”

Katie grinned. “She likes you.”

“Great,” Jefferson said sarcastically. He glanced at Madison crawling around on the floor to retrieve a cat toy under one of the rolling cages. “What do you think, Jem?”

Madison rolled the ball toward an orange tabby. 

A fluffy gray Persian shot out from a hiding place under the sink and pounced on the ball. 

Madison grinned at the ugly, smushed-face cat.

Jefferson groaned knowing that look. “Not a Persian, Jem. Look how much hair it has.”

Madison stroked the fluffy cat and picked it up. It melted in his arms and purred louder.

“That’s either Lily or Grace,” Katie said. “She has a twin sister. We would like them to find a home together.”

Madison’s grin widened.

Jefferson shook his head already knowing he was whipped.

Katie shook a container of cat treats and an identical gray cat popped out of a cat tree in the corner. 

Madison set down the first ball of gray fluff and approached the second. She sniffed him and allowed a pet before jumping on the counter and meowing for a treat. Madison picked up the first Persian again and held her out to Jefferson.

“Already got a cat.” Jefferson pointed to Leah, now curled up on his lap.

“Please?” Madison said.

Jefferson nudged Leah down and took Persian one. The ugly cat gave him a dirty look and twitched her tail.

“You’re not holding her right,” Madison insisted and took the cat back. She instantly purred and bumped his chin. 

“Well, let’s see what her sister does.” Jefferson got up and crossed the room to Persian two. 

She purred as he approached and her tail moved slowly. She allowed him to stroke her back and arched her spine.

“She’s not terrible,” Jefferson said.

Madison got down on the floor to play with Persian one. Her sister jumped down to investigate and Madison soon had both of them chasing a feather toy.

Katie began putting the other cats back with a knowing smile. 

Jefferson leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. If those ugly things were what Madison wanted, he wouldn’t say no, and Madison knew it. “Can we put in an application for them and, maybe, think on it for a day?” Jefferson asked Katie. 

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll get you the application. We will have to call your landlord so we can put the cats on hold for you until we have confirmation and that can give you some time to decide.” She left the room and returned with a clipboard.

Jefferson let Madison play with the cats and returned to the chair. The employee left them alone.

“What do you think, T?” Madison asked. Persian one sat in his crossed legs while Persian two pounced on the shoelaces of his boots.

Jefferson smiled. “Whatever you want, Jemmy.”

“I kind of like them. A lot.”

“Okay.” Jefferson filled out the application under his name and address to make it less confusing. He went ahead and put Madison’s name under spouse. Finished, he returned the clipboard to the front counter. “How much will two cat adoptions cost?” he asked Katie.

“Ooo, are you looking at the Persians?” a second girl asked.

“Yeah,” Jefferson said. “What are we potentially getting ourselves into?”

“They are a little more high maintenance as a long-haired cat,” Katie said. “But they’re both good cats. Maybe a little shy so you’ll want to acquaint them with younger family members, but I don’t think you’ll have to worry about too much noise or them ever trying to leave the apartment. Each one’s adoption is eighty-five dollars.” 

Madison came out of the cat room rubbing his eyes.

“He’s not allergic, is he?” the second girl asked.

“No,” Jefferson said. “He grew up with long-haired cats. The amount of animals and dust in here is probably getting to him and he was crawling around on the floor.” Jefferson stopped Madison from touching his eyes. “Better go wash your hands and face.”

Katie pointed out the bathroom and Madison headed through the doors.  

“Everything looks good on your app,” she said. “I’ll see if I can get a hold of your landlord and we’ll go from there.”

Jefferson thanked her and took a seat near the front window. It was after five and he doubted she’d have any luck, but that would at least give them some time to think over adopting two cats. 

Madison returned and sat on his lap. He grinned at Jefferson. 

“I should have known you’d pick the weirdest cats,” Jefferson teased.

“I left a message for your landlord,” Katie said. “We’ll give you a call as soon as we hear back.”

Jefferson stood and set Madison on the floor. “Okay. Thank you.”

 

The shelter called the next morning to let them know Jefferson’s landlord was fine with the two cats and that they could come down anytime that day after twelve to finish the adoptions.

“Yes!” Madison squealed. “Let’s go now.”

“It’s nine,” Jefferson said. “We’ll go right at noon. We need cat supplies first, anyway.”

“Okay.” Madison grabbed Jefferson’s keys off the kitchen counter. “Let’s go!”

Jefferson hurried after him and drove them to the pet supply store. He pushed the cart while Madison browsed.

“We need collars so we can tell them apart easier,” Madison said.

Jefferson leaned on the cart while Madison looked over his options. He picked out a pink striped one with a bow and a yellow dotted one, both with bells.

Beds were next, then food and water bowls. Litter box and litter. Scratching post. Cat carriers. Cats toys. Wet and dry cat food.

“You’re helping pay for this right?” Jefferson asked as he looked at the full cart.

“Yeah,” Madison said. “I’ve been saving my birthday money.”

Jefferson sighed with relief. He’d set aside a few hundred dollars a while ago for the cat adoption but hadn’t calculated in how much stuff the thing would also need.

Madison paid for the cat gear and they drove to the shelter. They had to wait ten minutes and Madison bounced in his seat.

“It’s noon.” He scrambled out of the truck.

Jefferson grabbed the carriers from the back and followed him.

Of course, inside, Madison’s shyness prevailed and he hid behind Jefferson.

Katie greeted them. “Looks like you’re prepared.” She pointed to the first computer. “I’ll help you here. Driver’s license?”

Jefferson dug out his license and handed it over.

She copied it and gave it back. She put his information on the computer and printed off adoption contracts for him to sign.

“So they’re James’ cats,” Jefferson tried to explain, “It’s just my apartment. Should he sign the contracts instead?”

Katie glanced at Madison sitting near the front window. “I’m assuming he’s over eighteen?”

“I think so,” Jefferson said with a grin. “How old are you, Jem?”

“Twenty-two.” Madison rolled his eyes. “You should know that.”

“Yeah, he can sign the contracts,” Katie said. “You can sign as well to keep the paperwork organized.”

Jefferson beckoned Madison to the counter and handed him a pen.

Paperwork was soon finished and Katie went over the vaccines the cats had been given—a complete workover—and their microchip. She took payment and printed a receipt. Lastly, she handed Madison the folder. “I’ll box your kitties up and you’re good to go.”

Jefferson gave her the carriers.

Madison clutched the folder to his chest, grinning. “You’re a daddy now,” he told Jefferson.

Jefferson smiled and stroked Madison’s hair. “So are you.”

Katie returned with the carriers and handed them to Jefferson. “I double checked which cat was which. Lily has a collar on right now and I tied a string on her carrier.” She indicated to the cage in Jefferson’s left hand. “Grace is the nakey cat.”

Madison grinned.

“Thank you,” Jefferson said.

“Please, send us pictures and updates,” Katie said.

“We will.”

Madison led the way and opened the doors.

“Car keys are in my right front pocket,” Jefferson told him.

Madison grabbed the keys out and unlocked the truck.

Jefferson secured the carriers in the back seat. Once no longer moving, the cats protested with yowls.

“Lily, Grace,” Madison cooed. “It’s okay. We’re gonna go home.”

Lily stopped while Grace continued her complaint.

“Hush, knucklehead,” Jefferson said as he started the truck.

Grace meowed louder.

They were all grateful to pull into the parking lot and take the cats upstairs. Jefferson left Madison with the cats and took two trips to bring in all their supplies.

Once the front door was closed for good, Madison let out the noisy Persians.

Grace instantly darted off and hid under the bed. Lily moved cautiously and purred when Madison wiggled his fingers in front of her.

Jefferson found their new collars and Madison exchanged the temporary one on Lily for the pink striped one.

At the sound of the bell, Grace poked out from under the bed. Madison coaxed her all the way out and snapped on the yellow dotted collar. “At least we’ll be able to hear them,” he said as both cats ventured off.

“Where do you want all their crap?” Jefferson asked.

Madison set the litter box up in the bathroom (and showed both cats) and put their beds in cozy corners. Food and water bowls went on the counter until Jefferson vetoed that plan five seconds later.

“It’s not like we have dogs that’ll eat the cat food,” he reasoned. He found a towel and Madison put the bowls on that on the floor.

Cat toys got scattered near the beds and scratching post.

“We’ll get them a big cat tree eventually,” Madison planned. “Another litter box would be ideal, too, but your apartment is kind of small.”

“Our apartment,” Jefferson said. “We’re a family now, Jem.”

Madison smiled. “I like that.” He moved toward Jefferson and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Lily meowed and rubbed against Madison’s legs. Grace shot out from under the bed and pounced on her sister.

Jefferson made lunch while Madison played with the cats and took pictures to post on Facebook.

“How should I caption it?” Madison asked. “Say ‘our new girls’ and tag you in it?”

“Sure,” Jefferson said.

It didn’t take long after he posted that for their phones to blow up. Jefferson’s sisters texted both of them, asking to meet the cats. Mrs. Madison called her son to congratulate him on the fur kids. Angelica called Jefferson to tease him about his whipped status.

The first night, the cats behaved themselves. But by the third night, the girls were comfortable and chaos prevailed.

Lily found the nosiest ball and batted it around right after Jefferson and Madison had turned off the lights. Grace zoomed out from under the bed, jumped on Jefferson’s face and made another mad dash under the bed.

The ball continued to jingle. Grace scampered across the bed.

“Oh, boy,” Jefferson mumbled.

“They’ll settle down in a few minutes,” Madison assured. He cuddled close to his fiancé. Despite the continued noise, he fell asleep.

Jefferson lay awake for another twenty minutes until he couldn’t take it any longer. He got up and used the flashlight on his phone to find the jingle balls and hide them. The cats settled down.


	108. Chapter 108

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cats

When Jefferson woke the next morning, he almost stepped on a hairball. The cats watched him from on top of his dresser. He cleaned up the gross mess and turned on the shower. Grace jumped on the bathroom counter while he grabbed clean underclothes.

She meowed at him when he returned to the bathroom.

“Jemmy feeds you,” he told her and nudged her off the counter.

She held her ground.

“Fine.” He left the door open a crack so she could leave if she decided, and undressed.

When he got out of the shower, she attacked his bare feet and raked her raspy tongue over his ankles. He nudged her away and dried off. Socks and underwear on, Jefferson headed for his dresser, the darn cat still attacking his feet.

“James, get up and control your cats.” He pulled on a pair of slacks.

Madison remained asleep. Lily lay curled up on his pillow.

“Sure, the nice cat likes you,” Jefferson muttered. “Enough, Grace.” He scooped the cat up and set her on the bed. He cringed as she pounced on her sister and Madison woke with a start. “Sorry, babe.”

Madison brushed a fluffy tail out of his face and rolled over.

“You feel alright?” Jefferson asked. He slipped a button-down shirt on over his undershirt and moved toward Madison’s side of the bed.

“Tired,” Madison mumbled. “Is it okay if I go home today?”

“Sure, Jem.” Jefferson touched his forehead. “That was the most nights you stayed; I’m proud of you.”

Madison’s lips turned up, although his eyes remained closed.

“I’ll feed the cats,” Jefferson whispered. He picked up the cat bowls and the girls raced over to him. He couldn’t remember what Madison fed them in the morning and put a scoop of dry food in each. The cats chowed down, crunching and snorting. For two dainty-looking Persians, they sure acted like pigs.

A half hour later, Jefferson kissed Madison goodbye and headed to work.

Madison woke around nine and called his mom. She’d pick him up in an hour. He gathered the cat bowls, the only thing he’d need to take back and forth right now. His parents had plenty of cat supplies he could borrow and set up in his room. He dragged the laundry hamper toward the door to do at home so Jefferson wouldn’t have to waste time at the laundromat.

He ate cereal and watched cartoons with the cats until his mom arrived.

Mrs. Madison took the laundry down and returned to help him with the cats. Lily went right in her carrier but Grace fought and yowled once the door was closed. Mrs. Madison took that carrier as Grace bounced around inside. Lily remained still and Madison carried the cage with both hands.

“How are the cats?” Mrs. Madison asked as she drove home.

“Good.” Madison smiled. “They already fit in well. Although, Grace likes to bother Thomas. I don’t think he minds, though.”

Mrs. Madison smiled at her son. “You look a little pale, dear.”

“Tired.”

She nodded. “It was a long few days for you.”

Once home, Mrs. Madison helped him carry the cats upstairs. She had already found a litter box and cat tree for them to use.

Madison had to grin as he set up the girls supplies: Jefferson’s apartment was laid out very similar to his own bedroom. The bed and dresser were positioned the same way and he was able to put the beds and cat tree as the girls were used to in the apartment. He hoped that would make things easier for the Persians. Already, Lily lay content on his bed kneading a blanket.

Jefferson called on his lunch break. “How are the girls?”

“Settling in nicely,” Madison said. He sat on the floor rolling a ball for Lily. Grace watched from under the bed and swiped at her sister when she got too close.

“Do you want me to come over tonight or are you drained?”

“Kinda drained,” Madison admitted.

“No problem, Jemmy,” Jefferson said. “Alexander wants to meet the cats this weekend. Do you think you’ll be back at the apartment?”

“I think so.” Madison stroked Lily and her purr was loud enough for Jefferson to hear.

“I’ll let him know. Call me tonight, if you want. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Madison hung up and cradled Lily in his arms. He set her on the bed and lay down for a nap. Lily settled on his pillow. Grace joined them and curled up in the crook of his knees.

All three were sound asleep when Mrs. Madison checked a half hour later. She snuck a picture and sent it to Jefferson.

Madison was ready to return with the cats by Friday. Jefferson picked them up after work.

“What would you think if I volunteered at the animal shelter?” Madison asked.

Grace yowled in the back seat.

“You’d bring home every cat,” Jefferson said. “Plus, your asthma would kill you.”

“Maybe just, like, one or two days a week?” Madison suggested. “And only for a few hours.”

Jefferson reached over the console and squeezed his fiancé’s hand. “If that’s what you want to do, I’ll help you figure out how to volunteer.”

Madison looked up at him with his large blue eyes. “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, Jefferson parked the truck and grabbed the cat carriers.

“I can carry Lily,” Madison offered.

Jefferson handed her over, glad to use his other hand to get the laundry hamper and not have to make a second trip.

The cats settled in without complaint. Madison fed them while Jefferson put away his clean clothes.

“Jem?”

Madison looked up at the serious tone in his fiancé’s voice.

“Are you going to be ready to get married in five months?” Jefferson asked as he fiddled with lining his clothes up perfectly in the dresser. “I kind of expect you to live with me full time after that. I know your health wears you out but I don’t want you feeling like the only way you can recharge is at your parent’s house. I want you comfortable here.”

“I’ll be ready,” Madison said. He stepped closer and stroked Jefferson’s back. “I promise. I have the girls now and they will help me feel more comfortable here. You know I hate being alone.”

“I know.” Jefferson soaked up his gentle touch. “Do you want me to move in with your parents instead?”

“I couldn’t ask that of you,” Madison murmured.

“You’re not asking me.” Jefferson touched his teach. “I’m asking you.”

“Maybe.” Madison looked at the floor. “I always worry that something will happen to me when I’m by myself. What if I have a stroke or asthma attack?”

Jefferson lifted him in his arms. “I understand. That worries me, too. I know the apartment is too noisy for you, too. Maybe someday we’ll get a little farmhouse and make sure it has cameras and alarms so I can know you’re safe.”

“I’d like that.”

Jefferson kissed his forehead. “Good. What do you want for dinner?”

Madison yawned. “I’m not that hungry.”

“James…”

“Grilled cheese?”

Jefferson kissed him again. “Okay. Why don’t you relax with the kitties?”

Madison got on the bed and called the cats. They both scampered toward him and their combined purrs filled the studio apartment.

Pleased that the cats loved Madison, Jefferson went about making grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. He washed a bowl of grapes for them to share and put two Oreo’s on Madison’s plate.

After dinner, Jefferson drew a bath and poured some wine.

“I’m too tired for a bath,” Madison complained.

“It’s for me,” Jefferson said and indicated to the single glass of wine he held. “It’s my break from the cats.”

“How do you even fit in the tub?” Madison asked with a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Not well,” Jefferson admitted. “I’ll leave the door open. Yell if you need anything.”

Grace followed him into the bathroom.

“Nope,” Jefferson booted her out. “Call your cat, Jem.”

Madison called for her and Grace leaped on the bed.

Jefferson undressed and situated himself in the tub. He missed Madison’s Jacuzzi tub, which he could actually fit in and have all his body parts under water. He closed his eyes and sank down in the bubbles and rested his feet on the opposite wall.

Grace ran full speed and pounced on the mountain of bubbles.

“Fuck!” Jefferson exclaimed as claws dug into his skin. He tossed the cat out of the tub. “Jem!”

Madison scurried into the bathroom and spotted his drowned-looking cat twitching her wet tail. “What’d you do to her?”

Jefferson glared at him. “Numbskull jumped in.”

Madison grabbed a towel from under the sink and wrapped up the angry cat. “Poor, Gracie,” he cooed.

Jefferson slipped back into the bubbles and downed his wine.


	109. Chapter 109

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someday

Burr rang the doorbell and waited on the front porch.

Laurens answered it with a groan. “Ugh.”                                                     

“Same,” Burr replied. “Is Alex ready?”

“Nope.” Laurens let him inside and the pack of old dogs yapped and sniffed at Burr, as they smelled Hairy Harry on him.

“Where’s Alex at?” Burr asked. They were supposed to visit Madison’s new cats. Even though his apartment was closer to Jefferson’s place than the Estates was, he’d agreed at once to ride with Hamilton when the offer arose. Theodosia had dropped him off at Mount Vernon and repeated Angelica’s reminder, “For the love of God, do not do anything stupid.”

“Shower,” Laurens said and returned to the family room where he was playing video games.

Burr headed upstairs. He paused on the staircase listening to see if the Washington’s were home. He didn’t hear anything other than the TV downstairs and the shower upstairs. He continued and opened the bathroom door. He didn’t hesitate and pulled back the shower curtain.

Hamilton screamed.

“Shut up, it’s me,” Burr grumbled. “Hurry up.”

“Jesus Christ!” Hamilton yanked the curtain back. “You’re early.”

“It’s quarter to ten,” Burr said. “We said we’d be there around ten.”

“Yeah, ‘around ten’ that’s like ten-thirty.”

Burr sighed. He stepped away from the shower and flushed the toilet.

Hamilton screamed again as icy water rained down. He got out of the shower dripping on the bathmat. “Happy?”

Burr snorted looking him over. “Oh, yeah.”

Hamilton snatched a towel off the rack and dried off before he wrapped it around his waist.

“Where are the Washington’s at?” Burr asked and followed Hamilton across the hall to his room.

“Mom went to a craft show and Dad took advantage of her being gone for hours to sneak out. I don’t know where he went.”

“It amazes me that they think they can leave you and John alone.”

“I know, right?” Hamilton dressed and ran a hand through his short, damp hair. “Ready.”

They headed downstairs and met the pack who insisted on acting as if they hadn’t seen either in days. Hamilton scooped up Potato and went into the family room.

“Sure you don’t want to come, John?” Hamilton asked his boyfriend.

“I’m allergic to cats,” Laurens said. “Pussy in general.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes and set Potato on the couch. He stood in front of the TV until Laurens paused his game. “Yes?”

“Kiss,” Hamilton insisted. He bent down until Laurens pulled him closer and kissed him. “Thank you. I’m ready now, Aaron.”

Burr checked the time on his phone: five after ten. He followed Hamilton to the garage and got into his truck. He texted Madison that they were on their way and made sure to blame Hamilton for their tardiness.

Madison met them at the front door of the apartment building, all grins and bounciness to show off his cats.

In the apartment, Jefferson sat on the floor attempting to put together a cat contraption Madison had bought.

Grace and Lily darted under the bed at the commotion of new people, but Lily poked her head out after a minute.

“How’re you doing, little duck?” Hamilton asked as they waited for the cats to reappear.

“Tired,” Madison said.

Hamilton stroked his friend’s long hair before he sat on the floor with Jefferson while Burr asked Madison some questions about cats.

“What is this supposed to be?” Hamilton asked.

“Some kind of bed and scratching post thing,” Jefferson said and pointed to the box.

“Cats have weird stuff.” Hamilton handed him one of many plastic pipes that fitted together.

Lily crept out and moved cautiously toward Madison. He scooped her up and cuddled her while she sniffed Burr’s hand.

Grace shot out from under the bed and attacked Hamilton’s hand as he twirled one of the plastic pipes.

“Shit!” Hamilton exclaimed.

“Yeah, that one’s Grace,” Jefferson said and pushed the suddenly feisty cat out of the way. She play-bit at his hand and swatted him.

“Wow.” Hamilton dangled his fingers and Grace attacked him. “She’s awesome!”

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Jefferson grumbled and launched into many stories that involved the fluffy cat and himself attempting to bathe.

“She seriously won’t let him undress unless she can watch,” Madison added. “She’s obsessed with him. Not that I blame her.” He smiled at his fiancé.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. He added the last pieces to the cat contraption: some balls on string and Grace went wild batting them and scampering around.

Lily, intrigued by the new toy her sister found, pranced over to investigate.

The boys watched the cats play for a few minutes.

Jefferson rose first, using Hamilton’s shoulder to make his popping knees work. “Want something to drink, Alexander?”

“Sure.” Hamilton followed him the few steps toward the fridge.

“You want to go hiking next weekend?” Jefferson asked. “I haven’t been up to the mountains in a while.”

“Just you and me?” Hamilton questioned.

Jefferson nodded.

“That sounds good.” He accepted a can of pop from Jefferson. “Need a break from domestic life?”

“Something like that,” Jefferson said. He popped the top on his own can. He didn’t have the words to explain how overwhelming life had suddenly become. The only thing he could ever think about anymore was Madison’s health and how someday…

He blinked his burning eyes and jugged his drink. “I take it John and Aaron didn’t kill each other?” Jefferson asked to push aside his burden.

“Nope,” Hamilton said. “I wouldn’t leave them unattended for long, though.”

A toy jingled wildly as Grace and Lily attacked the same ball.

Burr watched them with interest. “I wonder if Hairy needs a friend?” he said. “All he does it lay around. Theo said he’s only, like, six.”

“Some cats are just lazy,” Madison said and wiggled his fingers to get Lily’s attention. Her purr sounded like a small motor as she trotted toward her dad. “Not all cats like living with another feline either.”

“Hmm.” Burr stroked Lily’s head. “I wonder if Hairy would like a dog?”

“You can barely keep yourself alive,” Jefferson interrupted the conversation.

“True,” Burr agreed. “Someday, right?”

“I want to get my own dog someday, too,” Hamilton said.

 _Someday,_ Jefferson thought and clenched his jaw. Someday Hamilton would marry Laurens and adopt a dozen kids and pets. Someday Burr would marry Theodosia and have a baby or two and some cats. Someday he would bury Madison.


	110. Chapter 110

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiking Part One

The next weekend, Jefferson dropped Madison off at Montpelier and picked up Hamilton.

Hamilton came out with his backpack and two shopping bags. “Mom thought we needed plenty of snacks,” he said and stashed the bags at his feet.

“Good,” Jefferson said, “because I didn’t have any food to bring.” He backed out of the driveway.

“Are you doing alright financially?” Hamilton asked. “I mean, it’s none of my business…”

“Sort of okay right now,” Jefferson said. “But it’ll be hard once school starts again. Food is so expensive and it feels like a waste. Jem hasn’t figured that out yet and makes very pricey shopping lists.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Hamilton said with a grin. “He’s very privileged.”

“No shit.” Jefferson turned toward the interstate to take them to the mountains. “What’re your plans, like with John?”

“Work comes first right now,” Hamilton said. “We need to save some money and I need to make sure my head’s somewhat functioning.”

Jefferson smiled at him. “I think you’re doing amazing.”

“Thanks, man.” Hamilton dug into one of the shopping bags. “Want something? Chips, pretzels, candy bars, nuts, shit there’s everything here.” He pulled out a bag of gummy worms.

Jefferson held out a hand.

Hamilton handed over two and searched further for a bottle of Gatorade. They shared the candy and drink for the rest of the drive and soon arrived at an unpopular hiking spot to avoid people.

Once the snacks were divided between their bags, they set off along a narrow, overgrown trail. Water trickled nearby and the leafy trees provided adequate shade from the warm June day.

They walked in silence and enjoyed the stillness and bird sounds. They hiked until near noon and found a good place beside the creek to have lunch.

Jefferson stretched his legs out with his back against a tall boulder.

Hamilton took off his boots and soaked his feet in the water. “This was a good idea, T. I needed a break, too.”

“A little stifling at home?” Jefferson asked.

“Just a bit.” Hamilton drew his backpack near and found his lunch. “But I can’t afford anything yet. You’re amazing that you can work and go to school. I can’t get John to get his lazy ass out to find a real job.”

“Come on now,” scolded Jefferson as he pulled out his peanut butter sandwich. “He does work hard as a waiter and that’s a valid job even if he’s not using his degree.”

Hamilton sighed. “I know.” He unwrapped his sandwich. “I just need him to make more money.” He glanced at his friend. “Selfish I know.”

“It’ll work out. When do you and John plan to marry?”

“At least another year.” Hamilton took a bite and chewed. “Maybe two. I haven’t talked to John about this much yet but I really want to foster for a little while before we adopt our own kids. Maybe do some foster to adopt. I want to help like Dad does.”

“You’re amazing, Alexander,” Jefferson said, watching his friend.

Hamilton shrugged. “Dad is the one who is amazing.” He finished his sandwich and searched out a package of cookies. He moved closer to Jefferson to share. “I know he never expects repayment for all he’s done but I want to continue his legacy.”

Jefferson stuffed a cookie in his mouth, too full of emotions to speak. He brushed crumbs off his fingers and touched Hamilton’s arm. “That’s very grown-up of you.”

Hamilton glanced at Jefferson’s dark hand against his twiggy arm sprinkled with new freckles. “I try.” He met Jefferson’s eyes. “Sometimes.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you’re establishing who you are. I can tell you’re a lot more relaxed. John is good for you, too.”

“Not as good as James would have been for me,” Hamilton teased.

“Is that who you’d have picked if I hadn’t?” Jefferson asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup. Although, sometimes I think you and I would have made a good match.”

“We’re too competitive,” Jefferson said while he made a face. “We’d drive each other insane.”

Hamilton shrugged. “I dunno. If James wasn’t the one, who’d you pick?”

“I’d be content alone,” answered Jefferson. “You know why.”

“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t like a companion.” Hamilton ran a finger against Jefferson’s. “You like cuddling. You’re not completely antisocial.”

“I suppose.” Jefferson let Hamilton play with his fingers as he watched the creek. “I guess I’m so stuck on the idea that a relationship has to be sex because that’s the way it’s always discussed and assumed. It’s hard to think of something different from what I’ve made with Jem. I don’t think I could manage to form that bond with someone else unless he was ace, too.”

“I’m sorry, T,” Hamilton said.

“Huh?” Jefferson questioned.

“That you have to deal with such a sex-crazed world and never feel like you fit in. That’s not fair. I know it’s a struggle for you.”

“It definitely makes me appreciate more the people who understand.” He captured Hamilton’s hand in his. “But even so, it’s impossible for me to tell anyone. I hate the idea of that being out there and being labeled a freak.”

Hamilton leaned against Jefferson’s arm. “I wish you wouldn’t think that way.” He closed his eyes soothed by Jefferson’s warmth and strength.

Jefferson nudged him. “Don’t you dare fall asleep.”

Hamilton’s eyes popped open. “Now I know why Jem is so drawn to you. You have this security about you.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Tell that to just about anyone who would see me as an instant threat.” He kissed Hamilton’s forehead. “We should go a little further.”

Hamilton helped him pick up their litter. “I’m sorry you were harassed at work.”

“Me, too.”

“You’ve never caught a break, have you?” Hamilton grabbed his boots.

“Gay, black, and asexual, nope,” Jefferson said.

“But you’re smart.”

“Sure.” Jefferson shouldered his backpack. “Not like any of us has it great. You’re bi, grew up poor, and an orphan in foster care. Aaron was similar. Jem is gay, sickly, and genderqueer. John is… John.”

“Washington’s misfits,” Hamilton said.

“Indeed.”

They crossed the creek and walked for another hour and steadily went uphill. But clouds darkened and piled in the north and the wind picked up as they left the cover of the dense trees.

“Time to turn back,” said Jefferson as they reached the halfway point of the uphill climb. “I don’t think we’ll make it back to the truck before the storm hits but we can at least get to lower ground and find some cover.”

They headed back downhill. But only a few steps later, Hamilton stepped on a loose rock and his ankle went one way and the rock the other. He stumbled to his knees, groaning in pain.

“Shit.” Jefferson dropped next to him. “What’d you break?”

“Ankle,” Hamilton grunted. “I think its sprained.”

Jefferson helped him sit properly and with gentle fingers removed Hamilton’s boot and sock. Swelling made the process more difficult but Jefferson managed without too much-added discomfort. Dealing with Madison’s constant ailments helped him stay calm.

Thunder cracked in the distance and made the situation worse.

“We’ll get you to the creek and you can soak it to help the swelling,” Jefferson said. He cringed as he glanced at the sky and saw how much darker the clouds had grown. A drop of rain splattered against his face.

He hoisted Hamilton and watched the pain on his friend’s sunburned face. Jefferson shifted his backpack to his chest. “Get on. I can carry everything long enough to get us to the creek.”

Hamilton didn’t protest and wrapped his arms around Jefferson’s neck.

A cold rain drove them down the mountain. Jefferson moved slowly with the weight of Hamilton and two backpacks and fear of twisting his own ankle on the loose rocks now slick with rain. He’d also miscalculated how far they’d gone and his ability to carry the weight. He breathed hard and his back ached while his legs burned and blisters rubbed on his feet.

Soaked, cold, and with pain in every limb, Jefferson stopped beside the creek on flat ground.

Hamilton slipped off and staggered to the water. He gave a groan as he slipped in his foot.

Jefferson dropped his backpack and stretched. Sitting sounded like the best idea but he was afraid he wouldn’t get up again. For now, the rain had let up but more dark clouds moved fast and the wind picked up in the lower forest.

He renewed his energy the best he could with water and food. After fifteen minutes, Jefferson urged Hamilton up. “This storm isn’t over.”

Thunder drowned out the rest of his words.

No longer consumed by the initial trauma of spraining his ankle, Hamilton cried out from the noise and scrambled in fear toward Jefferson.

“Shit,” Jefferson mumbled. He could hardly even say they were safe that the storm wouldn’t hurt them. “I got you,” he murmured instead and pressed Hamilton’s face against his chest. “I got you.”

Once the thunder faded away, Jefferson took Hamilton’s backpack and carried one on his chest and the other on his back. He supported Hamilton along at a hobble.

They managed for a half hour before the clouds opened up and pelted hard, icy rain at the struggling boys.

Jefferson dragged Hamilton toward a nearby rock outcropping that offered minimal shelter as the wind drove the water in all directions. He tucked the backpacks behind him and kept Hamilton close as he shivered in pain, cold, and fear.

They were minimally prepared for bad weather and neither had packed a jacket. Jefferson knew he had a blanket or two stashed in his truck and likely a spare jacket since Madison was always cold but those were hours away. He closed his eyes against panic and prayed Hamilton wouldn’t go into shock, and the thunder and lightning, at least, would subside.

Hamilton pressed tighter into him as thunder roared in one continuous rumble. Tears spilled down his cheeks and mixed with the rainwater soaking Jefferson’s t-shirt. He pinched his ears closed but he could still feel the vibrations.

Would anyone come looking for them? Jefferson wondered. Eventually, he knew, but how long was ‘eventually’? Madison knew where he’d gone and when he should return. If Madison was aware a storm hit the mountain would he send out help sooner? Jefferson sent another prayer that he would. But how long before then? He couldn’t reach his phone without disturbing Hamilton and since his friend’s quaking had lessened he wasn’t about to disturb him.

The rain continued but as the wind lessened, for now, Jefferson urged Hamilton back to his feet. Moving would get them warm again and maybe they could find a better shelter if the storm continued.

Hamilton hobbled along, pale-faced and grunting. His toes were blue but his foot going numb was some blessing as he hit his foot constantly on strewn branches and rocks.

Darkness pressed down again as another storm cloud swept the area. Lightning cracked close by and Hamilton stumbled to a stop.

“Keep going,” Jefferson urged. “It’s just noise and light.” He tightened his grip on his friend. “Hammy, stay with me.”

Hamilton sucked in a shaky breath and allowed Jefferson to continue.

More icy rain. The gentle creek thrashed and the path turned to mud under the boy’s feet. Walking grew precarious as the sticky mud sucked at their boots and made every rock a hazard.

As the trail dipped toward a low spot, a new sound emerged: rushing water.

Jefferson stopped. “We need to get to higher ground.” He adjusted his hold on Hamilton and looked for a spot to retreat. They could either backtrack along the path and wait for the storm to end. Or head off the trail and continue in the right direction but through the heavy trees and undergrowth.

“Take your backpack and get on my back,” Jefferson said. “We’ll need to get off the path.”

Eyes heavy with exhaustion, Hamilton did as instructed.

Jefferson hoisted his friend’s soggy deadweight and trampled up the slope off the path. Wet, rotten logs made going a challenge as he steadily climbed and continued east. He was one wrong step away from taking them both down and he soon found that step.

His boot slipped off a mossy, damp patch and the rotten log collapsed beneath him. Wearing his backpack on his chest gave him some cushion as he went down, but Hamilton’s weight on his back knocked the breath out of him and put added weight against his hands.

Hamilton was quick to roll off him. “Thomas!”

Jefferson struggled to breathe or push himself up to give Hamilton encouragement.

“Thomas!”

Jefferson managed an unsteady thumbs up and coughed as air returned to his lungs. His wrists ached from catching his weight and his hand was cut from a rock. As he sat up, his vision wavered from the jolt. He closed his eyes to steady himself and get his breathing organized.

Hamilton’s chilled body settled next to him.

“What time is it?” Jefferson whispered. He didn’t notice the rain anymore, too wet to feel any more added water.

Hamilton retrieved his phone and found it dead from attempting to search for a signal in the mountains. He found Jefferson’s and switched it to airplane mode to save the last twenty percent battery life. “Almost six.”

“Jem will be expecting us home anytime now.” Jefferson winced at the sting in his hand. “Pray that he’s watching the clock and won’t hesitate to send someone to find us.”

“How long would you expect him to wait before he worries?” Hamilton asked. He clutched his numb toes in between his hands.

“Maybe two hours.” Jefferson sighed.

“I’m exhausted, T.” Tears thickened Hamilton’s voice.

Jefferson glanced up at the sky hoping to see blue and sunlight. But the patches between the trees remained dark gray. “Same.”

With grunts and cusses, Jefferson got to his feet. His knees had taken more of a beating then he realized from the fall and trembled to support him. He grabbed a tree for support and winced as bark pressed into his cut hand.

“We’re not going to make it any further, T,” Hamilton said. “Maybe on the trail, but not through this. You can’t carry me anymore.”

“We’ll manage,” Jefferson insisted. “Give me your backpack.”

Hamilton handed it over. Using a tree, he dragged himself upright. He moved toward Jefferson, stumbled, and his sprained ankle took the weight. He cried out in pain and fell against a tree.

Jefferson steadied him with fatigued arms.

Hamilton could feel him shaking and met Jefferson’s weary face. “We can find shelter. Wait out the storm.”

Jefferson agreed.

One deliberate, painful step at a time, the boys moved onward. Over fallen trees, through soggy underbrush, stumbling over hidden rocks.

Hamilton’s teeth chattered while heat radiated from his swollen ankle. His cold toes ached with stabbing pain. Every stumble from Jefferson sent pain racing through his own body.

A twenty-foot scramble above, a small cave offered some reprieve from the rain that resumed its icy downpour.

It was damp inside but not soaked and it offered protection from the wind.

Jefferson leaned against the sandstone side and attempted to let his body relax. Every muscle remained taunt in exhaustion. His knees ached, his hand throbbed, his back was one sheet of pain. But still, he took Hamilton’s bare toes and warmed them in his pained hands.

“Make sure you drink something,” he mumbled, his own throat parched.

Hamilton got out their water bottles and searched for snacks. Since most of it was in plastic bags, the rain had damaged it, although most of the stuff in Jefferson’s bag was flattened.

Jefferson tucked Hamilton’s toes between his legs and accepted water and a candy bar. “Mrs. Washington is the real hero here,” he said after a few swallows.

Hamilton nodded his agreement, too exhausted for more words.

“You should sleep,” Jefferson said after they finished some snacks.

Hamilton rubbed his tired eyes. “I’m good. You did more work.”

“I’m in too much pain to sleep,” Jefferson admitted. He shifted to try to find a comfortable position for his back. “How are your toes?”

“Painful.” Hamilton glanced at his foot wedged between Jefferson’s thighs. “That’s good, though, isn’t it?”

Jefferson nodded. “Blood flow.” He yawned and checked the time on his phone. A little over an hour had passed. How cold would it get during the night, he wondered? Would body heat be enough without something dry to huddle under?

“Do we have a plan?” Hamilton asked.

“Stay put,” Jefferson said. “The trail isn’t that far below us. We’ll be able to hear if anyone comes by this way. But we might be stuck until morning. We can try again then.”

Hamilton shivered. “Okay.”

“Sit next to me.”

Hamilton moved his injured foot carefully and relocated to the other side of the cave. He found his damp sock in his backpack and inched it over his toes for some protection. He and Jefferson huddled together, shivering as their bodies cooled.

A half hour passed.

Hamilton pressed his face into Jefferson’s chest. “I’m so cold.”

Jefferson couldn’t stop his chattering teeth long enough to get out a word.

Beyond the cave, rain fell again in a steady sheet. Branches creaked and swayed in a heavy breeze. A sudden shift in the rain sent a cold spray of water at the cave.

Jefferson groaned in agonized frustration. “If-if Jem left ho-home at s-say seven,” he chattered, “it w-would b-b at le-least three hours b-before anyone…” He trailed off exhausted.

Hamilton calculated the time in his head. That would put the earliest rescue at nine, which was approaching. But they both knew Madison wouldn’t react that fast. He likely wouldn’t conceive of something wrong until bedtime, around nine, which would put the earliest rescue at midnight. And that assumed the trail hadn’t washed out at several low spots and their location was reachable.

Jefferson tucked his chilled hands under Hamilton’s shirt.

Hamilton flinched at the cold fingers. “I only know one way to warm up,” he said.

Jefferson met his eyes. “Not in a million years.”

“Just putting that out there.”

Jefferson curled his body around Hamilton’s. “How about you gain a hundred pounds and actually have some meat on your body to emit heat. You’re like snuggling an icicle.”

“Sorry.” Hamilton wished he were able to help Jefferson to stay warm. With his friend shielding him from any elements, some of his chill faded, but he knew Jefferson had no such protection. Despite, Jefferson’s shivering Hamilton dozed.


	111. Chapter 111

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiking Part Two

A faint rumble of thunder woke Jefferson from exhausted slumber. Every muscle screamed in pain and his folded posture made matters worse. He wasn’t convinced moving was possible. Even his neck ached, as he turned to look out the cave opening.

A predawn stillness hung over the mountain. Fog wafted up the higher elevations and shrouded the peaks in white. Nearer at hand, moisture dripped off leaves and clung to newly formed cobwebs. A fresh, damp, green scent met Jefferson’s nose and gave him the tiniest hint of energy.

“Hammy,” he whispered and rubbed a hand against Hamilton’s chest. His own body remained molded to his friend and he was wont to move and face the chill of doing so.

Hamilton snorted and attempted to stretch. Pain rocketed his muscles and cut his movement short. He squinted in confusion before yesterday’s adventure hit his brain. “Ugh.”

“Same.” Jefferson closed his eyes and returned his head to its spot against Hamilton’s back.

“Are we dead?” Hamilton mumbled.

“I wish.”

“I have to pee so fucking bad.”

At the mention, Jefferson was suddenly conscious of his own need to urinate. “Thanks,” he grumbled. “I can’t move.”

“You will if I’m about to pee on you.”

With that motivation, Jefferson rolled away and faced the chill morning in his still damp clothes. He shivered and crawled out of the cave. He grunted and complained as he straightened his back and legs to stand. “Oh, God, this hurts,” he moaned.

Hamilton scooted away from the cave with no attempt to stand with his sprained ankle. He unzipped his jeans and only just managed not to pee on himself.

Jefferson leaned against a tree as his painful bladder let loose. At least one thing didn’t hurt anymore.

They took care with their dwindling water supply and ate a few cookies.

Slow and on their butts, they made their way down the slope to find the trail.

Rushing water hit their ears before the creek swollen into a river met their eyes.

Water ran down from higher elevation—likely the last of the snowmelt—and met the creek and blocked their path in multiple directions. If Hamilton wasn’t crippled and Jefferson’s knees steadier, Jefferson was certain they could find a way to cross, but as exhausted as they were, he didn’t trust their strength to fight the current.

“What do you think?” Jefferson asked.

“I’m never going hiking with you again,” Hamilton replied.

“Fair enough.”

Jefferson sat down on a rock next to Hamilton. At least the sun had come up and offered some warmth. He checked his phone but it was dead now. He guessed it was around seven.

“I bet Jem went to Washington,” he said, “and he told Jem to wait until morning. I’m sure they’re on their way now.”

Hamilton examined his colorful ankle. “I’m glad I’m not a pessimist or your optimism would be getting on my nerves.”

“Don’t you think John would come looking for you?” Jefferson questioned.

“Yeah, probably, eventually.” Hamilton sighed. “I’m too tired to give a shit.”

Jefferson struggled to his feet. “I’m going to look a little way and see if there are any potential crossing spots.” He left his backpack with Hamilton and staggered closer to the pouring water. He returned within a few minutes.

Hamilton raised an eyebrow. “That was fast.”

Jefferson dropped next to him. “I’m too tired to give a shit, too.”

They sat in silence, sucking on gummy worms and watching the sun rise higher through the trees as the fog faded away.

A whistle made them jump and stare at each other.

Jefferson got to his feet. “We’re here,” he shouted.

Hamilton gave his own piercing whistle.

The whistle responded and they continued making noise until they spotted movement in the trees across from the creek.

Washington and Laurens appeared mud-splattered and soaked to their knees.

“Yes!” Hamilton cried.

“Thank God,” Jefferson shouted.

“Well, you boys are a sight for sore eyes,” Washington called out. “All good?”

“I sprained my ankle,” Hamilton said. “Everything hurts.”

“We’ll get you home, son.”

“Is Jemmy okay?” Jefferson asked. He helped Hamilton closer to the creek.

“He’s fine, Thomas,” Washington said with a chuckle. “He’s warm and dry at home. Let’s get you to him.”

Laurens retrieved a rope from his pack. “It’s narrowest a few feet higher,” he said.

Jefferson dragged their bags and Hamilton up the slope with renewed energy. He caught the rope Laurens tossed. At Laurens’ instruction, he tied it around a sturdy tree and Laurens did likewise on his side.

Laurens crossed holding onto the rope to help Hamilton back.

Jefferson tossed their backpacks to Washington and waded into the cold water. The current sucked at his pants and his sore hands gripped tight to the rope. The rocks beneath his boots shifted and threatened to roll his ankle.

Washington grabbed him as he neared and helped steady him the last foot.

Jefferson heaved a sigh of relief and clutched Washington.

“You did good, my boy,” Washington praised. He turned his attention to Hamilton and Laurens.

Hamilton kept one hand on the rope, the other around Laurens’ neck.

The strain of not slipping tightened the muscles in Laurens’ body and the veins stood out in his neck and forehead. He panted hard once they made it across, having barely breathed during the ordeal.

“How far away are we still?” Jefferson asked.

“Not far,” Washington said but he looked at Laurens when he said it. He shouldered Hamilton’s backpack. He and Laurens supported Hamilton. Jefferson dragged himself along behind, his muscles screaming with each jolt of his footsteps.

The trail remained flooded in several places but the water didn’t move as fast and the men waded across with minimal precautions.

They made it to the parking lot as noon approached.

Jefferson dug his keys out of his backpack but didn’t have the strength to get up in his truck.

“I’ll drive,” Washington assured him as he watched Jefferson contemplate how to get his worn limbs to lift high.

Laurens situated Hamilton in the passenger seat of his little car. Hamilton moaned with satisfaction and sank into the seat in relief.

With a grunt and some cussing, Jefferson maneuvered into his truck and his muscles released some of their tension. He gave an equal moan of gratification.

“We’ll meet you at the house,” Washington told Laurens after he grabbed some things from the backseat.

Laurens saluted in agreement and got in with Hamilton. “Alive?”

“Barely,” Hamilton said. He turned the heat on in the car even though the day had warmed.

“I have dry clothes for you.” Laurens reached into the back seat and sought out a bag.

Hamilton gratefully took the clean, dry clothes. But it was more of a struggle than he expected to get out of his muddy, soggy pants and underwear. He struggled for several minutes and cussed often as he jostled his wounded leg.

Panting and heaving a sigh of relief, Hamilton rebuckled his seatbelt.

Laurens took his eyes off the road long enough to stare at Hamilton for a moment. “That was intense, Ham.”

“You trying undressing in the front seat with a sprained ankle,” Hamilton retorted. “Do you have anything to drink?

Laurens reached in the backseat again and brought out another bag. “Courtesy of Mrs. Washington, obviously.”

Hamilton dug into the bag and pulled out two sandwiches, chips, candy, and Gatorade. “Hungry, Jack?”

“Starved,” Laurens said and took his sandwich.

In the truck, Jefferson fell asleep before they were even on the main road. Washington had his own bag of food from his wife and ate in silence. Once in cell service, he called Mrs. Washington.

“On our way home,” he said. “Both boys are fine.”

“Thank, God,” Mrs. Washington said and told the news to Madison. “Yourself?”

“No complaints. Alexander did sprain his ankle. Thomas looks a bit banged up and he’s exhausted, no lasting damage, though.”

“Does Thomas have the energy to talk?” Mrs. Washington asked. “Jemmy is eager to hear his voice.”

“He’s asleep.”

“I can talk to Jem,” Jefferson mumbled eyes still closed.

Washington handed his phone over.

“Hey, love,” mumbled Jefferson.

Madison cried in response. “Don’t scare me like that again!”

“Jemmy, it’s okay.” He rubbed his eyes about to crash again at any moment. “I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you, too.”

Jefferson handed the phone back and was out.

He remained asleep ever when Washington parked in front of Mount Vernon.

Madison rushed out to the truck and clambered inside.

Jefferson grunted in pain and surprise and hugged Madison before he even knew what was going on.

“I was so scared!” Madison squeaked. He buried his face in Jefferson’s filthy t-shirt.

“I’m barely conscious, Jem,” Jefferson mumbled.

Washington lifted Madison out of the truck. “Let’s get him inside, Jemmy.” He helped Jefferson ease out of the truck and supported him. They went the long way through the garage to avoid going up the front steps. Madison followed behind as they made their way to the downstairs bathroom.

Washington turned on the tub.

Madison stared at his fiancé. “You look horrible, T,” he whispered.

Jefferson managed to maneuver from his seat on the toilet to look in the mirror. A filthy, scratched face looked back, his hair matted with mud.

Washington patted Madison on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you in charge. Holler if you need help.”

Madison soaked a washcloth in the tub and washed Jefferson’s face. “Tell me what happened.”

Jefferson’s explained the adventure to the best of his weary brain’s ability while Madison helped peel off his clothes and get him in the tub.

The water was brown in minutes.

Madison used the removable shower head to wash Jefferson’s hair. He drained the tub and rinsed off his fiancé.

Getting out was a challenge but with careful preparation, Jefferson got his bruised knees to move. Finally, the arduous task of drying and dressing were completed. Madison helped him shuffle to the family room and collapse on the couch.

After Washington carried Hamilton upstairs, Laurens bathed him and listened to the wild adventure until Hamilton fell asleep in the tub halfway through.

Laurens lifted him out, wrapped him up, and tucked him in bed.

Mrs. Washington made a hearty stew and homemade bread to fill the boys once they woke.

Jefferson ate in the family room, too weary and sore to move. Madison remained beside him and massaged his aches.

Laurens took food upstairs for him and Hamilton. He got in bed and kissed Hamilton. “How’s your ankle? Washington wrapped it while you were asleep.”

“I’ll live,” Hamilton replied. He took a bowl of stew and relished the warmth against his fingers. A chill seemed to remain in his body even after a bath and warm blankets. “Were you worried?”

Laurens took a bite of stew before he answered. “Yes and a little irritated. I know you guys couldn’t have known all that shit would happen, and you did tell James exactly where you’d be and when you’d be home. But it shouldn’t have gone to hell that much.”

“What could we have done different, John?” Hamilton asked with a frown. “We had enough food and water, and as you said, James knew where we were. I suppose we should have had jackets.”

“I dunno, Ham.” Laurens stared at his food. “I guess I don’t get why you went alone with Thomas.”

“Jealous?” Hamilton watched his boyfriend. If everything didn’t hurt to move he would have turned Lauren’s face to look at him.

Laurens shrugged. “I know why you didn’t invite James, but you know I like to hike.”

“Sorry.” Hamilton managed to move enough to touch his arm. “I think we both needed some peace to vent about our significant others.”

“Am I the woman in this relationship to you then?” Laurens questioned. “If you and T are a pair, then I’m with James. I’m not okay with that.”

“You’re out of line, John.” Hamilton sighed. “I don’t see any parallels between their relationship and ours. It’s not Thomas and me, and you and James. You and I can go hiking together in a few weeks when I’m recovered.”

Laurens stirred his stew around. “What did you need to vent about?”

“You need a real job, Jack.” Pain and exhaustion made him to the point. “I don’t want to live here forever and neither of us is making much. I’m trying hard to move up at work but you know I’m still recovering.”

Laurens frowned at him. “I’m a waiter and bartender, Alex. Those are real jobs. Besides, you know how hard it is to get a career job. You got lucky you still had some connections.”

“But are you even trying?” Hamilton asked. “Have you looked at any potential jobs in your field?”

Laurens let his spoon clatter against his bowl. “I am fucking trying, Alex. This isn’t easy. I didn’t get the same support you did when things got bad. It’s hard to fight being a failure.”

Hamilton closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Why don’t you tell me these things then, Jack? How can I help you if I don’t know you’re suffering?”

“I’m not used to anyone caring.” Laurens looked at Hamilton. “You know better than anyone what that is like.”

Hamilton squeezed his hand. “Then you should talk to me or Dad. We’re safe here, Jack, but we also have to think of our future. Do you still want a future with me?”

“Of course.” Laurens watched Hamilton’s lips. “Help me find some motivation.”

“I will,” Hamilton said. “But you have to try as well. If you do that I’ll relinquish my insistence of being a switch and resort to being only a bottom for as many months as your dutiful to your search.”

Laurens stared at him. “That was a lot of words, but I think you said you would be a bottom?”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“That’s a decent incentive.”


	112. Chapter 112

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tench

Washington’s phone rang as the family finished dinner. His brow creased as he saw the name on the screen. “Excuse me.” He got up and answered the call as he left the kitchen.

Mrs. Washington, Hamilton, and Laurens finished the meal in silence. As the boys cleaned up, Mrs. Washington headed for her husband’s office. She slipped in and found him at his desk staring vacantly into the void. “Tench?” she asked and prayed her gut feeling was wrong.

Washington nodded as a tear spilled down his cheek. “He’s home right now,” he said in a raspy voice. “A week at the most.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Mrs. Washington moved closer to her husband and he drew her on his lap. “Can we visit?” she asked.

“We’ll fly out as soon as we can.” Washington stroked his wife’s cheek. “I don’t know how to tell Alexander.”

Mrs. Washington didn’t know what to say. They were all still sensitive from Madison’s diagnosis, how would their emotionally-fragile son take the nearing death of a friend?

They didn’t get much time to decide as a knock sounded on the door. 

“Come in, Alex,” Washington said. 

Hamilton slipped in with Laurens behind him. “Tench?” he asked.

“Yes,” Washington said and watched the tears spill down his son’s cheeks. He was about to boot his wife off his lap to accept his son but Hamilton turned to Laurens and buried himself in his boyfriend’s embrace.

A new ache formed in Washington’s chest. While he wanted nothing more than his boys to become independent and mature young men, he knew he’d never be ready for Hamilton to not need him.

 

Laurens didn’t want to risk returning to South Carolina and agreed to take care of the dogs. 

The Washington’s rented a car at the airport and drove to the Tilghman’s Cape Cod house. 

Quincy and Tig met them at the door and Hamilton buried his face in Tig’s curly coat to hide the sudden tears. 

Grandpa Tilghman poked his head out of the family room and ushered them in where Tilghman’s hospital bed had been set up. 

Tilghman watched them with glassy eyes and a pale face. His hair had never grown back in and he wore the orange hat Mrs. Washington had made for him.

“Hey, Fish,” Washington said and sucked in a deep breath. He held it together as he sat next to his boy and held his hand.

Hamilton had less composure, though, and broke down. Mrs. Washington led him to the bathroom and stayed with him until he calmed.

The family stayed at the Tilghman’s that day, telling stories and sitting with Tilghman when he was awake. A few hours after dinner, they headed to their hotel room.

The Washington’s had one bed and Hamilton the other in the small room. 

“We’ll get through this, Alexander,” Washington said as he pulled back the blankets on the bed while he waited for his turn in the bathroom.

“How?” Hamilton whispered. He clutched the blue stuffed dragon Tilghman had sent him tight in his hands. 

“Time mostly,” Washington said as he thought back to the sadness following his dad’s death and the even worse pain when his brother, Lawrence died. “It’ll hurt for a while.”

“I’m tired of hurting!” Hamilton blurted as tears spilled free.

Washington couldn’t stop himself from glancing at his son’s left wrist.

But even though his tears, Hamilton had caught the look. “I promise I won’t hurt myself, Dad.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I regret that more than anything. I never want to hurt you and Mom like that again.” 

Washington pulled Hamilton toward him. “Your pain was still real,” he said. “Everything you feel is real. It doesn’t matter if someone else is going through a bigger crisis.” He tapped Hamilton’s chest at his heart. “You are valid.”

Hamilton sniffled. “I still never want to hurt you again.”

“I understand.” Washington squeezed his son’s chilled hands. “But I never want you thinking what you went through wasn’t legitimate and that you should have been stronger because worse things can happen. While everyone suffers and should be treated with respect, our own pain is always just as real.”

Hamilton nodded. “I’m glad I’m alive even if it is painful.” He sniffled again. “I want to have kids so I can pass down your wisdom. We need more people like you.”

Washington squeezed his son tight to him. “You’re the perfect person to pass all that on.”

After a night of restless sleep, the Washington’s returned to the Tilghman’s for a few hours of tears as they said goodbye before they caught their evening flight home.

Tilghman remained asleep while his grandparents, former foster parents, and brother talked and hugged the dogs.

“The funeral will be in New York where he was born,” Grandma Tilghman said. “We’re going to fly to Las Vegas after that to have a memorial for him there.”

Hamilton looked at his dying friend and his heart broke for the twentieth time that morning. It was cruel enough when a parent outlived their child, he couldn’t imagine how Tilghman’s grandparents felt knowing they outlived their grandson. Tilghman had so much more to give in the world with his sunny personality and amazing artwork. Tears spilled down Hamilton’s cheeks again. Tig jumped up to lick them away.

An hour later, it was time to go. Washington went first and kissed Tilghman’s clammy forehead. “You’ve always been a good boy,” he murmured. “We’ll miss you forever, Fish.”

For a brief moment, Tilghman’s eyes fluttered open. “Dad.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“I’m here, son.” Washington squeezed his hand as tears poured down his cheeks and he sniffled. When Tilghman gave no further response, Washington drew back and excused himself to the bathroom.

Hamilton tried to follow, but his mom stopped him. “Give Dad a few minutes to grieve in private,” she murmured. She said her goodbye to Tilghman, soaking several tissues. She hugged his grandparents good and long. She went outside to wait in the car, unable to deal with a second goodbye as she waited for her husband and son.

Tilghman’s hand twitched when Hamilton took it and stroked the cool skin. There was so much he wanted to say. How Tilghman didn’t deserve this. How he was thankful they had known each other and all that Tilghman had done for him. While life had dealt them cruel childhoods, he wanted to say that he was glad that they’d both found people who loved them and helped them grow up. But his throat was painful, his lips quivering, and any sentence would come out a jumbled, broken mess. Tilghman deserved to hear something more positive than his tearful statements. “Tench, I love you. I’m glad you’re my brother.”

He hurried away from the bed as the sobs overwhelmed him.

***

At Mount Vernon the next morning, Washington received the call. Tilghman had passed away an hour ago with his dogs by his side.

Grandma and Grandpa Tilghman arrived in New York a few days later. The funeral was held at the church they’d belonged to when they had lived there. Relatives and old friends filled the church. The Washington’s, Hamilton, and Laurens sat in the front with the grandparents.

Hamilton sat between his dad and boyfriend, hands clasped tight to both of them. He had always known life was fragile and painful. But he knew now that it would always be worth hanging on for. Stuff out of his control could always happen but he would make sure he didn’t cause the pain and do his best to help others see that as well. See that there was a tiny, flickering life that deserved to live.


	113. Chapter 113

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Independence Day

The next few days remained quiet and subdued. Washington was glad to have the summer off from teaching and could take it easy. But life didn’t like to slow down and there was plenty to keep him busy and reminded him of how much he was needed.

A friend of Jay’s had been accepted to the same school in Pennsylvania and offered to let Jay stay with her and her grandparents for the summer. Jay accepted at once, ready to start her new life. Toward the end of June, the Washington’s drove her and helped her settle in.

When they returned, Washington planned an Independence Day cookout with all his kids.

Hamilton and Laurens woke early to help him clean up the yard and set out tables and chairs. The dogs helped by creating new surprises to clean up.

Before noon, Madison and Jefferson arrived. Madison zoomed into the kitchen and hugged Mrs. Washington before running outside.

“You look tired, dear,” Mrs. Washington told Jefferson with a chuckle as he tried to keep up with his fiancé. “Jemmy must be feeling good?”

“He got me up at five this morning,” Jefferson said, “so we could float on rafts in the pool. Then he wanted to go out for breakfast.” He yawned. “He painted his nails when we got home.”

“Goodness. His new diet must be helping.”

“Probably,” Jefferson agreed. “Fewer carbs and actual food his body can use. Don’t tell him that, though. I better go check on him.” He headed outside and found Madison lighting sparklers with Hamilton. He hurried over and pulled Madison’s hair out of the way.

Lafayette, Adrienne, and Mulligan arrived next. Adrienne moved slowly, a hand under her large belly. She settled herself in the family room where it was cooler while the boys joined Washington outside by the grill.

“We found a new apartment,” Lafayette told him. “Three bedrooms and overall more square-footage so there is actual room in the family room and kitchen.”

Washington smiled at his son. “Excellent. When do you move?”

“Not until the end of the month,” Lafayette said. “But a week or two with the baby in the small apartment should be doable. We’re still going to look for a house, though.” He accepted a beer from Mulligan. “Adrienne is talking about having a home daycare so we’d need a little extra space. But it would be great if she could stay home with the baby.”

“You know Mom and I want to babysit,” Washington said. He flipped over the hamburgers. “I have two more months off and I plan to retire next May.”

“Trust me, we’ll utilize you guys,” Lafayette said with a grin. “Herc doesn’t want to babysit all the time.”

“Especially unpaid,” Mulligan teased. He would move with them to the new apartment and the du Montier’s planned for him to buy the future house with them.

Jefferson half-listening to the conversation moseyed over. “You’re actually going to retire, sir?”

“It feels right,” Washington said. “You know I can’t resist teaching, though, and I plan to offer tutoring to foster teens and work with some youth groups.”

Jefferson chuckled. “Of course.”

The sliding door opened and his laughter choked him.

“Hi, Thomas!” Bree waved cheerily. “I have to show you something.”

Jefferson groaned.

Bree pulled out her phone and brought up her pictures. “Marty J sent me these.”

“Ugh, no.”

“Look!” Bree stood on her toes to push her phone closer to his face.

If was worse than Jefferson expected: the pictures of him in decked out in English riding attire. “Delete those.”

“No way!”

Hamilton ran over. “Let me see!”

While he could have easily plucked the phone out of Bree’s hand, Jefferson let her show everyone the pictures. There were worse things in life than awkward seventh-grade pictures being passed around.

“I would laugh,” Laurens said, “but I have pictures of myself at that age with my brushed out curls and braces in cheerleading getup before my dad made me quit.”

“I must see those pictures,” Hamilton said.

Knowing Hamilton had so few pictures of himself as a child and would have treasured even the horrible ones, Laurens agreed. “My aunt has them.”

“All pictures of me are adorable,” Madison said.

“That’s true,” Jefferson said. He lifted his fiancé into his arms. “You’ve always had so much confidence in yourself. Way more than the rest of us.”

“Cause he’s a little duck,” Hamilton said with a grin.

“You guys are all adorable,” Washington said. “Food’s ready.”

Everyone filled their plates with hamburgers, fruit, macaroni salad, and raw vegetables. To help Madison keep to his low sugar and carb diet, the only dessert was a sugar cookie cake with cream cheese, strawberries and blueberries to make an American flag design.

Washington watched the family eat and a ridiculous amount of pride overwhelmed him. Each one of his boys—foster or honorary—had grown into a well-adjusted young man who cared deeply about his friends and family. He had no doubt that Bree would become an amazing and successful woman; she was already well on her way.

He’s known Madison since babyhood and watched him grow from a very timid child to the much loved and adored friend of many. While he’d always been shy, Jefferson was right that Madison had confidence in himself and did what he wanted and needed to be who he was.

Washington had met Jefferson through the Madison’s but had grown to know him most as a sad, angry freshman in high school who kept everyone at a distance. Now he was joking with Lafayette, Mulligan, and Laurens while petting Hamilton’s head and letting Bree roast him. He could still be reserved but he now knew it was okay to let other’s in.

He couldn’t take much credit for Mulligan, as the young man had never come through his home as a foster or his classroom as a student. But Mulligan had spent many weekends at Mount Vernon as a teen and had learned what love and acceptance were through them and had worked hard to get to college and remain that steadfast friend he’d always been to Lafayette.

Laurens was no longer a regret that Washington hadn’t gotten him away from his father sooner. He still turned out okay and there was no use wondering “what if.” When the day came and Washington was no longer around, he knew Hamilton would be okay with Laurens at his side.

And Hamilton? There were no words. The smile on the scrappy redhead as he chowed down without reserve, laughed and teased his friends spoke for itself.

Not everyone could say they made a difference, but even though he had his doubts at times, Washington knew he had. There was no greater feeling.


	114. Chapter 114

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby!

Washington left his office with a grin and hurried to the end of the hall. Mrs. Washington was at her sewing machine while Hamilton sat on the floor playing with the dogs while he chatted with his mom.

“I just got off the phone with Lafayette,” Washington said. “Adrienne’s water broke. They’re on their way to the hospital.” He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Yes!” Hamilton exclaimed and made Potato bark.

“That is wonderful, dear,” Mrs. Washington said as her eyes crinkled at the corners. “He’s not driving, is he?”

“No, Herc is taking them.” He could barely catch his breath. “They were getting in the car when he called. I told him we’d meet them at the hospital.”

“Sounds good.” Mrs. Washington turned off her sewing machine. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

Hamilton ruffled Noodle’s ears. “I’m going to be an uncle!”

The family was in the Cadillac fifteen minutes later and on their way to the hospital for a positive reason for once.

Once there, they headed for the maternity ward and soon found Mulligan in the waiting room. 

“Anything new?” Washington asked.

“No,” Mulligan said. “Adrienne just got settled in her room.” He didn’t get a chance to say anything further as a nurse approached.

“You must be Lafayette’s family,” she said. “You’re welcome to visit with the parents-to-be.”

Washington thanked her and took his wife’s hand. They and Hamilton followed the nurse to a nearby room. 

Adrienne was in bed while Lafayette hovered over her. “Mom, Dad,” he breathed in relief. “I’m glad you’re here. Hey, little lion.”

“Everything okay?” Washington asked.

“Everything’s fine,” Adrienne assured. “Laffy is a little nervous.”

“A little is an understatement.” Lafayette sucked in a deep breath and drummed his fingers on the bed.

While Washington and Hamilton tried to reassure him, Mrs. Washington chatted with Adrienne. She’s been through enough births at Mrs. Madison’s bedside to be comfortable answering Adrienne’s questions and soothing her concerns. 

The family stayed together until a nurse came into check how far along Adrienne was. Washington steered Hamilton out and they found chairs next to Mulligan. 

“You’d have thought Lafayette expected the baby to fall out as soon as Adrienne’s water broke,” Mulligan told them. “So much panic. I had to hit him. Twice.”

Washington chuckled. “It’s a new experience for all of us. It’ll all go smoothly, though.”

A couple approached and Mulligan greeted Adrienne’s parents. Washington had only met them a few times and after the disastrous lunch at Mount Vernon when Mother Washington invited herself, he wasn’t quite sure how to interact with them. They nodded politely to him but asked Mulligan for an update.

An afternoon of waiting set in. Hamilton took his turn to sit with Adrienne and Lafayette and made sure the rest of the squad knew what was going on. 

Finally, Mrs. Washington came over and said Adrienne was dilated enough. She stayed in the waiting room while Lafayette and Adrienne’s mom remained in the room with her.

More waiting resumed and this time the clock seemed to tick even slower. Mulligan paced while Washington tapped his foot on the floor. Mrs. Washington took out her knitting while Hamilton played on his phone.

“How long does this take?” Washington asked at one point.

“Hush, dear,” said Mrs. Washington without missing a stitch. “Babies come when they’re ready.”

Washington let out a long sigh.

At last, Lafayette staggered out of the room, overwhelmed but grinning. “A girl,” he gasped as his eyes shimmered. “Come meet your granddaughter and niece.” 

The family crowded into the hospital room where Adrienne held a small bundle wrapped in a blanket. Lafayette took the baby and held her out to Washington. “You’ve been waiting for this forever,” he said in a choked whisper. “Meet Henriette Marthe, your granddaughter.”

Washington barely dared to breathe as he took the tiny baby. She fit easily in his hands. He could only stare at the red face and tiny nose. Her eyes were closed and her little lips puckered. “She’s perfect,” he said softly as tears filled his eyes. Every child was a miracle to him and deserved the world but this one... This was his granddaughter. He couldn’t explain the fierce love burning in him as he cradled her warm, little body. She was a human who would only grow up knowing love. He would protect her at all costs. 

“Don’t hog the baby now, George,” Mrs. Washington scolded as her own eyes shimmered. She stepped closer to her husband and watched the beautiful baby for a moment before Washington allowed her to take Henriette. 

“She’s a marvel,” Mrs. Washington murmured. 

Lafayette wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her. “We made that,” he whispered. “You’re so amazing, Adri.”

Adrienne squeezed her husband’s hand. 

Her parents held the baby next, then Hamilton.

He took his niece carefully, melting as she yawned and her baby blue eyes opened for a moment. “Laf, I love her,” he murmured. 

Lafayette slipped off the bed and stood next to his brother. “She’s very blessed to have you as her uncle.” 

“I don’t want to cry all over her.” Hamilton let Lafayette return Henriette to her mother. He moved toward Washington and leaned against his dad. “Why are we all crying?” he blubbered. 

Washington wiped at his eyes. “Because we all know fragile the world is and how much had to happen just right to make this baby possible.” He wrapped his arms around his son. “Good things truly do happen.”

***

Henriette Marthe du Montier was baptized in the Catholic Church two weeks later. Because of the strict rules of Adrienne’s faith, her sister and Mulligan became the baby’s official godparents since only Laurens was baptized. Lafayette made sure that all the announcements mentioned that he and Hamilton were also honorary godparents.

“I expect you two to behave,” Washington told the boys, as the family got out of the car at the church. He took his wife’s arm.

“What if the church, like, collapses when I walk in?” Laurens asked.

Washington closed his eyes briefly.

“That could be a real threat,” Hamilton said. “God surely knows where John’s gay ass has been.”

“Please, be quiet,” said Washington.

“I’ve never been to church before,” Hamilton said ignoring his father’s request. “What do I do?”

“Pray to the devil,” Laurens said.

“Enough.” Washington glared at them. “You can be as heathenistic as you want the rest of the day but for an hour you can shut up and pray.”

“An hour?” Hamilton whined.

Washington cuffed the back of his head.

Both boys shut up.

They entered the church and found the pew in the front Adrienne’s parents saved for them. They eyed the boys with uncertain glances as the two looked around in obvious inexperience.

When mass began, Lafayette, Adrienne, and Henriette walked in with the entrance procession before taking their seat in the row ahead of the grandparents and next to the godparents. When the parishioners were called to greet each other, the Washington’s grabbed the chance to coo over their granddaughter in her lacy, white gown. Mrs. Washington had made her bonnet and booties.

“She was awake all night,” Adrienne whispered. “We’re hoping she’ll sleep through this.”

“Isn’t she going to have water poured on her head?” Laurens asked. “Who can sleep through that?”

Washington gave a low grumble in his throat and shot Laurens a look to be quiet.

While he and his wife weren’t Catholic, they were familiar enough with the ritual and knew when to stand and sit and what prayers were said when. It was a new ordeal, though, to drag Hamilton and Laurens through it but they remained respectful enough.

After the homily, the du Montier’s and godparents stepped onto the altar.

“What name will your child be known to God and us?” asked the priest.

“Henriette Marthe du Montier,” Lafayette said, his almost-lost French accent slipping out as he used the French pronunciations.

Hamilton glanced at Laurens and they almost lost it.

Washington made sure they stayed quiet while the Baptismal vows were stated and answered.

Just before she was about to be baptized, Henriette woke. No longer secure in her crib where she’d fallen asleep, she shrieked and flailed her little fists. Adrienne handed her to Mulligan who, apparently, had some baby whisperer skills as she calmed down. Until the water was poured on her head and she cried some more. But the ordeal was soon over and she settled down sucking on her thumb.

The priest said more prayers, candles were lit, and more prayers followed. Hamilton stopped a yawn with a wary glance at his dad.

After the baptism, the mass continued.

“Stay seated,” commanded Washington the boys as he and his wife prepared to go up for Communion.

“Jesus juice,” Laurens whispered to Hamilton once Washington was well out of earshot.

Hamilton choked and pressed a hand against his mouth. He kicked his boyfriend.

After the final hymn, Hamilton and Laurens hurried out and waited for the rest of their family in front of the church.

“That was intense,” Laurens said as he loosened his tie.

“You’ve been to church,” Hamilton reminded him. “And Bible camp.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Washington carried the baby out of the church and glanced around for the rest of his family. The boys headed over. “You were tolerable,” he told them.

“At least we didn’t cry,” Laurens said. “Unlike someone.” He gave a teasing glare at the wide-eyed baby. “May I hold her?”

“No,” Lafayette said.

“That’s fine.” Adrienne shook her head at her husband.

Washington slowly settled the baby in Laurens’ arms and made sure he had a sure hold on her before he withdrew his hands.

“She’s so light,” Laurens murmured.

Everyone hovered around him as if they expected him to throw the baby.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Lafayette grabbed his daughter and gave her to Adrienne.

“Chill, Laffy,” Mulligan scolded. “John is one of her godparents.”

“Yes, but he’s John,” Lafayette insisted.

Laurens rolled his eyes. “I feel loved.”

Hamilton wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “I love you.”

“Ugh, God really does hate me,” he teased.

“Let’s go.” Washington dragged them to the car.


	115. Chapter 115

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kittens

Madison waited for Jefferson in the lobby of the animal shelter where he had been volunteering on Saturday mornings. He held a plastic shopping bag in his lap, and mewing cage of kittens sat next to him.

Jefferson stopped when he heard the kittens and located the sound next to his fiancé. “What’cha got there, Jem?”

“Foster kittens,” Madison said and gave his best smile.

Jefferson crossed his arms. “Uh-huh, and what do you plan to do with them?”

“Raise them until they’re eight-weeks-old,” Madison said. “They’re bottle babies.”

“Jem...”

Katie leaned over the counter and butted in. “James wanted to try his hand at fostering since he’s home most of the time. Those four kittens don’t have a mama. I showed him how to mix the formula and feed them.”

Jefferson gave a strained smile. “How often do they need to be fed?”

“About every two hours,” Katie answered.

Jefferson looked at his fiancé. “Sure you’re up for that, Jem?”

“Yeah.” Madison stood and showed Jefferson one of the bottles. “Look how cute!”

Jefferson’s face relaxed. “Alright. But you know we’re not keeping the kittens, right? Six cats are out of the question.”

“I know.” Madison knelt down to peer into the carrier. “Katie said I’ll be sick of them by the time they’re eight-weeks and getting active. Can you carry them?”

Jefferson took the carrier.

“Thanks, you guys,” said Katie. “If it’s too much, don’t hesitate to bring them back. Call if you have any questions or concerns.”

Madison thanked her and held the door open for Jefferson.

Kittens secured and quiet in the back seat, Jefferson started the truck. “What are Grace and Lily going to think?”

“Hopefully, they will like them,” Madison said.

“I’d appreciate a heads up next time, babe.”

“Sorry.” Madison glanced back at the cage. “They were so cute, I couldn’t say no.”

Jefferson reached over the console and squeezed Madison’s hand. “I know. I’ll help you as much as I can.”

At the apartment, once Jefferson sat the carrier down, Lily ran up to it and purred. Grace approached slowly. When one of the kittens mewed, she arched her back and hissed.

“Grace!” Madison picked up the slightly darker gray cat and set her on the bed. “You have to be nice. They’re babies.”

“I’m sure she’ll get over it,” Jefferson said. “When’s the next feeding?”

“About another hour,” Madison said. “Katie helped me feed them before you arrived.”

“I’ll change and get lunch started then.” Jefferson grabbed some clothes out of his dresser and tossed them on the bed.

Grace spit and hissed, on edge from the kitten intrusion.

“Gracie,” Madison soothed her. “It’s okay.”

Jefferson changed out of his workout clothes. He crossed the small room to the kitchen and began cutting up the chicken he’d left to defrost in the microwave secure from the cats.

After lunch was made, eaten, and cleaned up, Madison showed Jefferson how to measure and mix the kitten formula. He filled two bottles with lukewarm water and a scoop of powder. 

They sat on the floor. As soon as Madison opened the carrier, the kittens mewed and squirmed. 

Lily hurried to investigate while Grace retreated to the top of the dresser.

“Oh, shit, they’re tiny,” exclaimed Jefferson as he got his first good look at the ten-day-old kittens.

“Their eyes just opened,” Madison said and handed a buff tabby kitten to him, which looked even smaller in Jefferson’s hand.

Madison picked up a brown tabby and showed Jefferson how to hold the kitten and bottle properly. The kitten mewed and clawed at the bottle desperate to drink but too excited to latch on. Madison coaxed the nipple into its mouth. The kitten sucked hungrily with its tiny paws resting against the bottle.

Jefferson got his kitten to suckle and watched the baby drink, its eyes closed, mouth moving fast.

Lily licked the two remaining kittens as they attempted to move on wobbly legs and cried.

Once the first babies stopped suckling, Madison swapped kittens. 

At once, Lily began to lick the buff kitten’s rump.

“Awesome!” Madison said.

“What?” Jefferson asked.

“Lily is helping it go to the bathroom,” Madison explained. “Kittens have to be stimulated to help them go. I had trouble getting it figured out earlier so if Lily can help, that’ll be great.”

“Huh,” was all Jefferson could manage as he wondered what Madison was getting them into.

Each kitten took a second turn on the bottle and Lily did her part. The kittens were quick to tire and Madison tucked them back in their carrier.

“See?” he told Jefferson. “Not that hard.”

Jefferson brushed Madison’s hair back. “What about when you’re by yourself? Can you handle feeding four?”

“I’ll manage.” Madison smiled at him. “If we feed them again right before bed, Katie said they likely be okay for most of the night. We can just get up to feed them if they start to scream.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Jefferson raised an eyebrow.

“Please? If they wake me, it’ll wake you, too.” Madison stood on his toes and wrapped his arms around Jefferson’s neck.

Jefferson gave a fake grumble. “Fine.” He pulled Madison into his arms.

They spent a quiet afternoon reading and watching TV. Lily stayed near the kitten carrier for a while then cuddled with Madison. Grace remained on the dresser. The couple fed and cuddled the kittens every two hours and made sure they were good and full before bedtime.

The kittens did sleep through the night but exploded into mewing screams a little after five in the morning.

Jefferson woke first and nudged Madison. “Kitten time, babe.”

Madison dragged himself out of bed and put on his glasses. He made up the bottles and opened the carrier.

The kittens scrambled out at once, mewing. They attempted to climb on Madison’s leg, all desperate for the bottle.

Jefferson corralled two and got one to latch onto the bottle. 

Madison struggled, as his kitten would not stop screaming long enough to suckle. Finally, he got the kitten to understand he was trying to feed it and the kitten suckled hard.

Once the kittens were fed, Jefferson let Madison cuddle them and Lily clean them while he put on a pot of coffee. It was Sunday morning and he wished for more sleep but he was a parent now and had to take care of the kids. He showered and came out of the bathroom to a pleasant surprise. 

Madison stood at the stove making breakfast. He remained in his pajamas—which now consisted of his boxers and one of Jefferson’s t-shirts—with his long hair in a messy braid. 

Jefferson remained in the bathroom doorway; hand on the towel around his waist. He didn’t want to disrupt Madison but he also felt a strong urge to scoop him up, throw him on the bed, and make him happy.

Scrambled eggs finished, Madison dished them onto two plates. He took a platter of bacon out of the microwave and added pieces to the plates. He hummed to himself as he poured a cup of coffee for Jefferson and one of milk for himself. He glanced back and jumped. “How long have you been standing there?”

“I love you,” Jefferson said.

Madison’s face relaxed into a smile. “I love you, too. Breakfast is ready as soon as you’re dressed.”

“Can that wait a few minutes?” Jefferson crossed the space between them and pulled Madison into his arms. 

“Wha—” his question was lost in Jefferson’s kiss.

“I know I make you give me fair warning,” Jefferson mumbled, “but...”

“Yes.” Madison pulled the tuck from Jefferson’s towel and let it fall.

A few minutes later, they dressed and Madison served breakfast.

 

Now that law school was out for the summer, Jefferson could return his focus to work. While no one liked Madison to be by himself, a system of various family members calling and texting him throughout the day worked well enough and no more than an hour at a time went by that someone didn’t know Madison was fine. That allowed Jefferson to focus at work. But mornings with four kittens made things a challenge and he arrived almost a half hour late.

“Thomas Jefferson late?” Angelica teased. “How is that possible?”

“Jem is fostering kittens,” he explained and took a long drink of coffee.

“Really?” Angelica looked up from her computer. “You allowed that?”

“I wasn’t given a choice. They’re pretty cute,” he admitted. “Hopefully, it won’t be too much work for Jem by himself. They’re only, like, ten days old and need to be bottle fed.”

“Aww, I bet they’re precious!” Angelica smiled. “Have James send you pictures to show me.”

“Sure.” Jefferson sent Madison a quick text.

Madison sent pictures when he did the next feeding.

Angelica cooed over them. “You’re going to end up with four more cats, T.”

“Nope,” Jefferson said decisively. “Jem knows that is not an option, plus he’ll be tired of them by the time they’re eight-weeks and making a huge mess.”

“If you say so.”

On his lunch break, Jefferson called Madison to see how the feedings went.

“Good,” Madison said. “I figured out how to feed two kittens at once. Lily is helping a ton, too.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jefferson said. “How’s Grace?”

“Still perturbed, but she’s not being mean. Do you have anything planned for dinner?”

“No, why?” Jefferson unwrapped the sandwich he’d ordered for delivery, having forgotten to make his lunch at home.

“I can make something,” Madison said.

“Okay. Need me to pick up anything?”

“Wine.”

Jefferson chuckled. “Sure. I’ll be home around 5:30 then.”

“Sounds good.” They gave their ‘I love you’s’ and said goodbye.

Just before Angelica returned from lunch, Mr. Reynolds stopped by the small office.

“Any chance you can stay a little late tonight?” he asked.

“Well...” Jefferson rubbed his neck. “My fiancé is fostering kittens and I don’t want him to exhaust himself alone.”

“It’ll only be an extra hour or so.”

Jefferson nodded, thinking. “That’ll probably be fine. I could use the overtime.”

“Thank you.” Mr. Reynolds took his leave.

Jefferson texted Madison.

 _That’s fine,_ Madison replied. _Just text me when you’re getting ready to leave._

_Will do._

Mr. Reynolds dropped off the overtime work around four-thirty. Jefferson finished his late afternoon tasks and got started. Angelica left at five and the office fell silent.

Jefferson lost track of time as he worked and jumped when his phone rang: Madison. He glanced at his watch and cringed. It was after seven.

“Sorry, Jem,” he said at once. “I lost track of time.”

“How much longer?” asked Madison, a faint whine in his voice.

Jefferson looked at the stack that remained. He could easily work for another hour. “I’ll try to leave by seven-thirty. I’m sorry, I know everything is probably ready and you’re starving.”

“It’s fine.”

“James...”

“What else am I supposed to say?” Madison grumbled. “I know you need the overtime. I’m trying not to be mad. I just—”

“I know,” Jefferson soothed. “I’ll be home soon. You can eat without me if you want.”

“‘Kay.” Madison hung up.

Jefferson sighed. He plowed through the rest of the paperwork and left ten before eight. He wasn’t sure if being later or showing up without wine would be worse. The liquor store was on the way, home, though, and only took him an extra five minutes.

Madison sat in the middle of the floor playing with Lily and Grace. He didn’t bother to greet Jefferson.

Jefferson let him be and set the wine on the counter. He poured two glasses while biting his tongue about the collection of dirty dishes piled in the sink. “How are the cats and kittens?”

“Fine.” Madison tossed a ball for Grace and watched her pounce on it.

“Did you eat?”

“Yes.”

Jefferson found his plate of parmesan chicken and spaghetti in the fridge and noted the leftovers for his lunch tomorrow. He cursed himself for being late. Madison did so much to take care of him and he never bothered to notice or reciprocate. He stuck the plate in the microwave. He struggled to think of something to say to break the tense silence. “Did you brush Lily? She looks extra fluffy.”

Madison didn’t answer.

Jefferson glanced over and saw the tears welling in his eyes. “Jemmy, what’s wrong?” He dropped to the floor next to him. “Are you okay? Are the kittens—?”

“I don’t like being mad at you,” Madison sobbed. He crawled into Jefferson’s lap to sit face to face. He clung to Jefferson’s tie. “I’m sorry! I know you have to work but I want you home.”

Jefferson wrapped his arms around him as the microwave beeped. “You have nothing to apologize for. I told you I would be home at a certain time and didn’t pay attention. I knew you worked hard to make dinner special. I love you and I’ll respect you more in the future.”

Madison wiped his eyes. “I-I don’t know what to say... This isn’t—”

“Yes, it is.” Jefferson kissed his forehead. “You’re alone all day. I need to be home when I say I will. I know it scares you being alone.”

“But you need the overtime. When school starts—”

“I know and I will take it whenever I can get it with your blessing. But if I say I’ll be home by seven, I will.”

Madison nodded and rested his head against Jefferson’s chest.

The microwave beeped again.

Jefferson stroked Madison’s hair. “Why don’t we stop at your parents tomorrow and get your Build a Bear collection? You might feel less lonely if you have your toys to play with.”

Madison drew back. “Really? I wasn’t sure you wanted those here.”

“Babe, this is your home, too.” Jefferson brushed at his fiancé’s damp cheeks. “Your stuff belongs here. I don’t mind your toys. It makes you happy.” He kissed Madison’s forehead again. “I’ll put aside a little money from each overtime for you and before I go back to college, we’ll go shopping. You can get some new Build a Bear stuff. Would that make me being gone more bearable?”

Madison giggled at the unintended pun. “Yes. It’ll give me something to look forward to.” He stroked Jefferson’s chest. “You don’t have to, though,” he whispered. “It’s your money; you need it for bills and school.”

“It’s our money, Jem. You deserve to have some spending money. You do all the work for our girls.”

Madison smiled. “I love when you say ‘our girls’.”

Jefferson kissed his nose.

The microwave beeped again.

“Better get your food,” Madison said. He stood using Jefferson’s shoulders as leverage. “I want some wine.”

They relaxed in bed while Jefferson ate and had their wine. Then it was time to feed the kittens again before bedtime.


	116. Chapter 116

Mr. Reynolds stopped by the office again the next day. “Do you want more overtime?”

“Can I do it tomorrow?” Jefferson asked. “I have plans tonight.”

Mr. Reynolds nodded. “No problem.” He closed the door as he left.

Angelica stared across the tiny office. “You have plans?”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “I’m helping Jemmy get his stuffed animals. He’s been staying at the apartment almost full time now and deserves to have his stuff.”

“Do you have space for James’ toys?” Angelica asked. “He’s got what, twenty stuffed animals?”

“If not more,” Jefferson said. He rubbed his eyes, ready for the day to be done. “We’ll make room.”

“You set the bar way too high, T,” Angelica said. “James is incredibly lucky.”

Jefferson shrugged. “We respect each other.

“It’s more than that,” Angelica insisted. “You embrace each other’s quirks. How many other guys wouldn’t care about their partner’s toy collection? I bet most wouldn’t understand.”

“True.” Jefferson didn’t know what else to say. He’d never been bothered by Madison’s toy collection. The stuffed animals had always been visible in Madison’s room and he lost count of how many times he’d been into Build a Bear. He’d never questioned if Madison would lose interest in his toys, as he got older. He didn’t have his fiancé’s imagination to create stories and worlds. He’d lost interest in toys himself long before junior high. Yet he loved to see and hear what Madison came up with for his imaginary world.

After work, Jefferson changed and helped Madison feed the kittens before they headed to Montpelier.

Mrs. Madison hugged her son. “It feels like forever, Jemmy.”

Madison hugged her back. “I know.”

“Can you boys stay for dinner?”

Madison looked at Jefferson.

“I’m good with that,” Jefferson said.

“We just have to be back in about two hours,” Madison added. “We have to feed the kittens.”

“You’ll have to tell us all about them over dinner.” Mrs. Madison kissed him. “We’ll eat in about a half hour.”

Jefferson followed Madison upstairs to his room.

Madison stared around his old bedroom, eyes growing moist.

 “I know you miss living here.” Jefferson wrapped his arms around his fiancé. “Once we get your toys, maybe the apartment will feel more like home for you. But if we need to move back here, we will.”

Madison nodded and wiped his eyes. “You can get the animals off the shelves. I’ll get everything out of the closet.”

Jefferson didn’t have a problem reaching the shelf that went along two of the walls near the ceiling. He tossed the various stuffed animals on the floor, counting as he went. “Thirty-four,” he said. “I think your collection doubled since the last time I played with it when I was in high school.”

“Probably,” Madison said. He added a picnic table to the stack of furniture he’d gotten from the closet. “Washington made that and the beds for me.”

Jefferson smiled.

“Mrs. Washington made some clothes as well.” Madison dragged out a small plastic bin. “Can you get the larger totes and the kitchen?”

Jefferson followed him into the closet and dragged out the two large bins and carried out the small toy kitchen. Besides that and the furniture Washington had made, Madison had a dining table and chairs, a car, and a few small end tables and cabinets. Seeing it all stacked together made Jefferson doubt if it would all fit in the apartment.

The bedroom door opened and Nelly poked her head in. “Time for dinner.” She paused. “Are you moving out?”

Madison shrugged. “I wanted my Build a Bear collection.”

They followed her downstairs.

Madison told all about the kittens while they ate, as well as stories about Lily and Grace.

After dinner, Nelly and William helped bring down the toys, although Jefferson did most of the work. Madison packed the stuffed animals in garbage bags for easier transport.

The largest bins wouldn’t fit in the backseat of the truck. Madison fretted as Jefferson loaded them in the bed of the truck. “What if the lids come off?”

“I can strap the lids on,” Jefferson said. “Does your dad have any bungee cords?”

“There’s some in the garage,” William answered. He ran off to fetch them.

Madison remained unconvinced as he watched Jefferson hook two cords around each tote. “We can take Dad’s van,” he said.

“I don’t want to have to make a second trip back for my truck,” Jefferson replied. “This will hold, I promise.” He prayed he was correct. He doubted Madison would forgive him if he lost the stuff he’d been collecting for fifteen or so years.

Once the backseat was packed, the boys said their goodbyes and accepted a stack of leftovers from Mrs. Madison.

At the apartment complex, Jefferson parked in front and quickly unloaded everything, which all arrived safely. Once parked in his spot, he began the arduous task of getting everything to the fourth floor. Madison carried what he could but that amounted to a couple of pieces of furniture at a time. He made three trips; Jefferson made five.

Lily and Grace sniffed the new items apprehensively.

“I’m glad we had dinner at your parent’s,” Jefferson said as he stretched his back. “I’m way too wiped to think about cooking.”

“Are you too worn out to help me feed the kittens?” Madison asked.

“Get started, I’ll help in a minute.” Jefferson poured himself a glass of water and chugged it.  He soon joined Madison on the floor and accepted a crying kitten and bottle.

“Where can I put the stuff?” Madison asked.

Jefferson glanced around the apartment. He didn’t have much furniture, which proved a blessing. He pointed to the wall space near the back window. “You can stack the bins up there. I’ll pick up a bookshelf on Saturday and you can put the stuffed animals on that.”

“Okay.” Madison smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Jefferson’s eyes softened. “You’re welcome.”

Kittens fed and tucked in for the night, Jefferson was glad to take a hot shower and get in bed.

When the kittens mewed at five, Madison rolled out of bed quicker than usual. “Stay in bed,” he told Jefferson. “I’ll get them quiet in a minute. You can sleep.”

Jefferson didn’t argue and rolled onto his stomach. A few minutes later, the loudest cries were quieted and he fell back asleep until his alarm went off at six.

He found Madison curled up beside him, baby blanket under his chin. Jefferson kissed him and got up. He dressed and fixed his breakfast quietly. He fed Lily and Grace and scooped their box. Madison remained asleep when he left for work at seven-thirty.

Madison woke a little after eight and fed the kittens again. He dressed, ate breakfast, and dove into his imaginary world.

The stuffed animals had families, interests, hobbies. Madison had profiles in word documents on his laptop. He organized the animals into the family and friend groups. Lily and Grace watched and got in the way as he emptied out the tote full of clothes.

He would have lost track of time completely if not for the kittens. They reminded him of feedings and his own forgotten hunger.

When Jefferson called to say he was going to work late, Madison told him to take his time. “The day has gone by so fast,” he said.

Jefferson chuckled on the other line. “I’m glad. I’ll be home about eight-thirty.”

Madison said goodbye and returned to sorting through the tote of accessories.

Since he expected it, Jefferson didn’t cringe at the state of the apartment. Stuffed animals, clothes, and accessories covered most of the floor space as Madison sorted the proper items to each family.

“It looks like you’ve been productive,” Jefferson said. He bent down to pick up Grace as she rubbed against his legs.

“Yeah!” Madison got up and stepped through the toys. He held his arms out to Jefferson.

Jefferson set down Grace and picked him up.

“I kind of forgot about dinner,” he said.

Jefferson kissed his nose. “That’s alright. We have cereal, don’t we?”

“Yeah.”

After they ate, Jefferson did insist Madison make a better path to and around the bed so nothing got broken in the morning.

Happiness and contentment couldn’t last.

Midway through the next week, Jefferson returned home from work to find Madison crying next to the kitten cage.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself. Had one of the kittens died? “Jem?”

“Hammy won’t eat today.” Madison turned toward Jefferson with the buff kitten in his hands.

Jefferson sat on the floor next to him and stroked the kitten’s tiny head.

“I texted Katie,” he said through his tears, “and she gave me a few ideas to try but nothing is working.”

Jefferson took the kitten. “I’m sorry, Jemmy. Are the others okay?”

Madison nodded.

The kitten remained listless in Jefferson’s hands, only moving to open his mouth and give a soundless cry. “We’ll take him to the shelter tomorrow and see if anything can be done, okay?” _Assuming it survives the night._ “I’ll let my boss know I’ll be late.”

Madison nodded wiping his eyes. He took Hammy back in his arms and cradled the kitten.

Hammy the kitten survived the night.

After feeding the other kittens, Jefferson drove Madison and Hammy to the shelter. Katie and the vet tech took the kitten back to examine him.

Fifteen minutes later, Katie returned. “We gave him some fluids,” she said. “It’s not uncommon for some kittens to just not make it. We’ll do what we can for him today.”

“Thank you,” Jefferson said. He patted Madison’s shoulder.

As Madison headed for the exit, Jefferson handed Katie a business card with his cell number on the back. “Text me if it’s bad news. I don’t want James more upset while he’s alone.”

Katie nodded and pocketed the card.

Jefferson dropped Madison off at the apartment and hurried to work. The day dragged as he waited for the text that Hammy had died. But instead, a little after four, Katie texted him that Hammy was drinking on his own.

 _I bet you’ll be able to take him home tomorrow night_ , she wrote. _We’ll give it a day to get some more fluids and food in him_

Jefferson thanked her and called Madison.

“Thank God,” Madison said with a sigh. “I don’t want to have a kitten’s death on my conscious.”

“It wouldn’t have been your fault,” Jefferson said and changed the subject. “What do you want for dinner? I can pick up something.”

“Um, I’m actually at my parent’s,” Madison mumbled. “I had Mom pick me up.”

“Oh, okay,” Jefferson fumbled for words. “Am I picking you up then or are you staying the night? Are all the cats with you?”

“I want to stay and, yes, all the cats are here.”

“Okay.” Jefferson chewed his lip and bit back a sigh. He’d hoped the back and forth was over and Madison felt content and safe in the apartment. He worried that one night back at Montpelier would break the progress and Madison would want to return more often.

“Is that okay?” Madison asked hesitation in his voice.

“I’ll miss you and the girls,” Jefferson said.

“I know. I just…” Madison let silence fill the line.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow night,” Jefferson said at last. “Goodnight, Jemmy. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Jefferson hung up and rubbed his face. He jumped when Angelica returned from using the restroom.

“You look stressed,” she said. “Did the kitten die?”

“No, alive and doing better.” Jefferson sighed. “James is staying at his parent’s tonight. It’s been like two weeks. I thought the habit might have broken.”

“One night isn’t the end of the world,” Angelica soothed. “He’s stressed about the kitten and doesn’t want to be alone. Everything will be normal tomorrow.”

Jefferson ground his teeth. “See, you think I have this perfect relationship but this is the reality. James is not mature and I’m left dealing with everything alone. Any shit that happens will be for me to take care of and make right. I don’t have a partner, Angelica. I have a child.” He shoved his chair back against the wall and stormed out. He headed to the bathroom, irritated with himself for losing his temper, irritated by his own thoughts. Couldn’t his fiancé be a grown-up for a day and not run home to his mom?

He stayed in the bathroom seething until he got control of himself and realized he was the one being immature.

Returning to the office, he apologized to Angelica. “That was uncalled for. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

Angelica gave a faint smile. “I get it; you’re under a lot of stress constantly. James is as high maintenance as they come. I’m always here to talk to and if you ever need to vent. I won’t hold it against you.”

“Thanks.” Jefferson teased a hand through his curls. “I can’t wait until these kittens are gone. It’s too much for Jem to deal with. We’re trying to wean them and all they do is sit in their milk mush and make a huge mess.”

“Gross.” Angelica gave a sympathetic smile. “Well, you do have the night off from kitten duty.”

“True. Want to go out for drinks?”

“Totally.”

They picked a bar between their apartments and ordered drinks and a sampler platter. Angelica caught him up on her relationship with Jane and told him any gossip she knew about Burr and Theodosia.

“They have this wild idea to move to Texas and open a law firm there,” she said.

Jefferson bit into a mozzarella stick. “Why Texas?”

“No idea. Sometimes I wonder if Burr’s immaturity is rubbing off on Theo.”

“Oh, boy.”

They chatted and drank until nine.

Jefferson left the bar content but that fell flat when he returned to the empty apartment. But it wasn’t just that Madison and the cats were gone, it was because he realized how happy and free he felt for those few hours with Angelica. No responsibility. No need to hurry home to Madison who needed constant supervision because of his health. No one waiting for him because he couldn’t take care of himself.

Maybe…

Jefferson closed his eyes and leaned against the closed door. He couldn’t imagine his life without Madison but the rare wonder of what else was out there crept into his brain. He’d known no other relationship than this one but what would it be like to have a true partner and not someone who went shopping by himself once and almost died? What would it be like to just go and do without worrying constantly about his other half’s health?  

That was a joke, he realized. He never had any desire to go to places or do anything anyway. A few hours out with Angelica exhausted him and he knew he and Madison were more alike than he thought. No, he didn’t want anything different. He only needed better ways to cope with his stress. And be more firm about foster kittens in the future.


	117. Chapter 117

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron and Theodosia

Sunlight streamed in through the parted curtains and blinded Burr as he opened his eyes. He groaned and rolled over to bury his face in his pillow. A loud rumble sounded in his ear and a rough tongue licked him. “Good morning, Hairy,” he said, voice muffled against his pillow.

Harry Hairy bit his ear.

“Careful!” Burr exclaimed and nudged the cat away. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

The cat licked his paws and continued to purr.

“Are you up finally, Aaron?” Theodosia called to him from downstairs.

“Yes,” he yelled back. “Did you send the cat to wake me?”

“Maybe.”

Burr headed downstairs and the cat ran ahead and tried to trip him down the steps.

“It’s like ten o’clock,” Theodosia said. She sat at her computer browsing online.

“So? It’s the weekend.” Burr stood behind her chair and looked at the screen. “Dolls?”

“Yeah, I want to splurge on myself,” Theodosia said. She tilted her head back toward him. “I can’t decide if I want to get a doll or a dollhouse.”

Burr kissed the top of her head. “Pick out one and I’ll buy you the other.”

Theodosia shook her head. “It would be over a hundred dollars either way. I can’t ask you to spend that much.”

Burr turned her chair around. “Theodosia, how much have you spent buying clothes for me? I can afford to get you something for a change.” He cupped her face in his hand. “You wouldn’t let me know what you wanted for your birthday last May. I want to get you something you’ll love.”

“Okay,” Theodosia agreed. “You can buy the doll. There are several I want so you can choose.”

Burr smiled. “Awesome.”

The rest of the morning sped by with Theodosia excitedly telling her boyfriend all about American Girl dolls and showing him pictures on the website, Pinterest, and Instagram. Burr grew more overwhelmed by the minute and struggled to keep straight which dolls she wanted.

When he went back to his own apartment that night, he was grateful to find Angelica. “I need your help.”

“What did you fuck up now?” Angelica said with a groan.

“Excuse you,” Burr pouted. “I don’t always need help because of something I did.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Burr shook his head. “Theo wants a doll and I’m so confused.”

“Well…” Angelica tossed her phone aside. “I was never really into dolls. That was Eliza’s thing but I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“Did she collect American Girls?” Burr asked.

“Yup. She and Peggy have quite a few.” Angelica patted her bed for him to sit. “What one does she want?”

“I don’t remember.” Burr showed her some stuff on his phone. “I didn’t know adult doll collectors were a thing but there’s like tons of Instagram pages and Theo wants to take pictures of the doll, too.”

“Cool.” Angelica returned his phone and grabbed her own. “I think I know which doll you need to get her.” She pulled up the website, familiar enough with it from buying stuff for her sisters, and within a few minutes found the doll.

Burr stared at the picture. “Sure.”

Angelica rolled her eyes. “She looks like what yours and Theo’s baby would look like.”

“Oh.” Burr looked at the doll more closely and realized Angelica was right. The doll had curly hair like they both had, tan skin—a shade between their own—and hazel eyes like himself. “I don’t know if that one was on her list, though,” he said. “Although I don’t remember. I swear she showed me, like, fifty dolls.”

Angelica chuckled. “She’ll like this one, I promise. Get the doll a few outfits, too.”

“What?” Burr blinked rapidly.

“Theo won’t want her to wear the same thing in every picture, silly goose.” Angelica tapped him on the head with her phone.

“Okay, help me pick out some outfits.”

With Angelica’s help, he soon had over two-hundred-dollars worth of stuff in his shopping cart. “My clothes are cheaper than this doll’s,” he whined.

“Hush,” Angelica scolded. “Where’s your credit card?”

Burr pulled out his wallet and handed his card over. While he didn’t get the doll thing, he was certain seeing Theodosia’s reaction would make the cost hurt less.

***

The package arrived on a Thursday and Burr took it over with him on Saturday.

Hairy Harry greeted him at the door and yowled.

“What?” Burr asked.

“He hasn’t had breakfast yet,” Theodosia said. “I can’t believe you’re awake before eight on a Saturday, Mr. Burr.”

“I have something for you.” He held up the box.

A grin spread across Theodosia’s face. “Let me feed Harry real quick.”

She fed the cat and grabbed scissors to open the box.

Burr sat on the floor with her, oddly nervous over what she would think. He chewed on his fingernails as she pulled out the boxes.

“Oh, my God, Aaron!” Theodosia gushed as she saw the doll through the box window. She hurriedly pulled off the lid. “I love her!” She scrambled toward him and kissed his lips. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

Burr smiled and his shoulders relaxed. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I made a good choice.”

“It’s what our baby will look like!” She kissed him again.

“Like in a few years from now, right?” Panic seized him and he forgot how to breathe.

“Yes, in a year or so.” Theodosia carefully removed the doll from the box and hugged her.

“Thank goodness.” Burr paused. “Wait. Only a year? Theo…”

“Calm down.” Theodosia rolled her eyes. “I promise we’ll wait until you’re ready but remember I’m older than you and have a ticking biological clock.”

Burr pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should not have gotten you a doll. You’re, like, nesting, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know why I put up with you.” Theodosia opened the smaller boxes of doll clothes and squealed over everything. “But I really, really love you.”

Hairy Harry yelled from the kitchen.

“Mama loves you, too, Harry,” she told the cat.

Burr moved to sit closer to his girlfriend. “Do you like everything? I did okay?”

“I love it all, Aaron.” She cuddled against his chest. “You did perfect. You have to help me take pictures now.”

A smile lit up his eyes. “Awesome.”

When they laid in bed together that night, Burr brought up the possibility of them moving. “I think you should teach me how to drive and we can rent a little RV and drive across the country until we find a place we love.”

Theodosia stroked his chest and breathed in his familiar scent. “I love the idea but that would take more time than the vacation days we have.”

“Forget about work.”

“Aaron.”

Burr sighed. “I want to do something crazy and adventurous.”

“Then we should get married.”

“Okay,” Burr said at once before her suggestion fully registered.

Theodosia sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “For real, Aaron?” She searched his face for a teasing smirk.

Burr sat up, too, and took her hands. “I think so, Theodosia.” Goosebumps flooded his arms. Did he, Aaron Burr, just agree to get married? And he wasn’t regretting it? A satisfaction settled in his chest. Maybe he really was growing up. “I want to marry you and, in a couple of years, have babies.”

Theodosia wrapped her arms around him. “I love you.” She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “But I am not teaching you how to drive.”

Burr groaned and pushed her away teasingly. “How are we supposed to drive across the country with one driver?”

“Mr. Burr, I am not driving off across the country in an RV.” She pinned him down. “Hairy Harry would be appalled to travel that way. We’ll fly to Texas and see what we think. If that isn’t the place, we’ll fly somewhere else.”

“With the cat?” Burr asked.

“With the cat.” She pressed her lips against his for a moment. “He’s part of our family.”

Burr slipped a hand between them and pressed it against Theodosia’s stomach. “Until I fuck up and get you pregnant.”

Theodosia grinned. “You want to fuck up tonight?”

“Fuck, yes.” Burr couldn’t stop his own smile. “Up, no. But soon, you baby crazy goose.”

Theodosia tickled him until they were both breathless and the noise attracted the cat who put an end to the nonsense.


	118. Chapter 118

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bess

“Alexander, you have a visitor,” Mrs. Washington called up to him while she shushed the barking dogs.

Hamilton glanced at the time on his laptop and wondered who’d be visiting him at ten-thirty on a Sunday morning. He saved the document he was working on and headed downstairs. 

Standing by the front door and bouncing from foot to foot was Bess dressed in a blue striped dress and coordinating leggings and holding a small backpack. Her mom and Mrs. Washington chatted nearby.

“Lecks!” Bess squealed. “Hi! I start Kindergarten next week!”

“Oh, wow!” Hamilton said amazed at how fast time flew by “You’re turning into quite the little lady.”

“I know!” Bess twirled. “I show you what I got for school.” She held up her light blue backpack covered in horses.

“Ooo, yes, let me see.” Hamilton led her into the front room and helped her open the backpack on the coffee table.

Bess pulled out a package of crayons. She carefully opened the box. “Look how pointy!”

“Awesome,” Hamilton said and was taken back to childhood himself at the strong, waxy smell of brand new crayons.

Next was a package of markers. “They has smells!” She pulled out the purple one and handed it to Hamilton.

He took off the cap and sniffed it. “Grape.”

“My pictures might look like scribbles,” Bess said very seriously, “but they will smell good.”

“That is very important,” Hamilton agreed.

As the two went through the backpack one item at a time, the mothers watched near the stairs.

“Bess couldn’t wait to show Alex her school supplies,” Mrs. Madison said. “We went shopping yesterday and the whole time it was ‘I have to show Lecks’, ‘Do you think Lecks will like this?’ Adorable for the first ten minutes. Not so much an hour later.”

Mrs. Washington chuckled. “She definitely adores him.”

“Look at my pencil box!” Bess handed Hamilton the pink sparkly box. “Open it!”

Hamilton did as instructed to find several thick pencils with her name on them. “Wow! You got the coolest stuff.”

“I know.” Bess reached into her backpack. “I got a sticker book.” She handed him the book with a pony on the cover. “I already has stickers.”

Hamilton admired the pony stickers inside. “Very nice.” He smiled at the tiny little girl. “I’m very honored to see all your school supplies.”

Bess grinned. “May I take you for Show and Tell?”

“Well...” Hamilton bit his lip to stop a grin. “You might need to ask your teacher. But if she says yes, I will gladly visit.”

“Yes!” Bess twirled around. “Mommy, I’m going to take Lecks for Show and Tell!”

“Oh, boy,” Mrs. Madison said barely holding back a laugh. Once her daughter resumed talking to Hamilton, she told Mrs. Washington, “It’s going to be hard to see her off to school. It’ll be too quiet at home without her.”

“I imagine,” Mrs. Washington said. “It’s only half-day, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Madison watched the blonde curls on her daughter’s head bounce as she gestured wildly as she told a story. “I suppose that’ll help ease me into her being gone all day next year. Reuben could use the one-on-one attention, too.”

“It’s almost time for another baby, isn’t it?” Mrs. Washington said with a coy smile.

“Jim thinks we’re done.” Mrs. Madison shook her head. “We shall see, won’t we?” She glanced through the screen security door as a car pulled into the driveway. “Speaking of babies. Looks like your granddaughter is here.”

Everyone heard baby Henriette long before she arrived in the house.   
“Why it crying?” Bess shouted as the door opened.

“I wish we knew,” Lafayette replied, as Adrienne with the screaming infant, followed him. “Mom, help us.”

Mrs. Washington took the baby while Hamilton and Bess ventured closer. “When did this start?”

“I dunno.” Lafayette looked at his wife. “After Adri fed her, I think.”

“She’s been crying for almost two hours,” Adrienne said twisting her hands together. “I burped her and changed her and offered her more milk and she only wails.”

Mrs. Madison held out her arms. “Let me see the wee thing.”

Mrs. Washington handed Henriette over and everyone watched as Mrs. Madison gave the baby a firm pat on her back. Henriette gave the largest burp for something so small and ceased crying.

“Oh, come on,” Lafayette grumbled. 

Mrs. Madison cooed over the baby. “Infants are odd, little things,” she said and smiled at the young couple. “You’re doing amazing, though.”

“Thank you.” Adrienne took back her daughter and kissed the bald head.

Bess pushed her way into the group of adults. “I know all about babies,” she said. “I know where they come from.”

Lafayette glanced at his grinning brother. “Please, tell me you were not involved in her knowledge, little lion.”

“Nope,” Hamilton said. “But she is spot on.”

“Lecks taught me how to say shit!” Bess declared.

Color darkened Hamilton’s cheeks as the adults glared at him.

Lafayette shook his head. “You are not babysitting Henriette.”

“Oh, whatever,” Hamilton said. “May I hold her?”

Adrienne handed him the baby and turned to Mrs. Washington. “Do you have any crackers? The drive over made my stomach queasy.”

“Because Laffy’s driving sucks,” Hamilton said while the older women exchanged a worried glance and headed for the kitchen. He turned his focus to the infant in his arms, her large eyes staring at him. “I’m jealous,” he groaned. “I want a baby.”

“Calm down,” Lafayette said and rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t after listening to her scream for two hours.” He wrapped an arm around his brother and watched his little daughter. “She’s perfect otherwise, though.” 

“Hey!” Bess tugged on Hamilton’s jeans. “I your baby!”

Hamilton smiled at the five-year-old. “You’ll forever be my favorite.”

“Good!” She wrapped her arms around his leg.

Baby returned to her father, Hamilton scooped up Bess and tossed her on the nearby couch. 

She screamed with laughter and startled Henriette who resumed crying.

“Adrienne,” Lafayette wailed himself.

“Here.” Hamilton took the baby. He bounced her lightly in his arms and made silly faces. The crying turned to gurgles and Henriette reached a tiny hand toward his nose.

Adrienne stood in the kitchen doorway. “Apparently, I married the wrong brother,” she teased. “You could learn from Alexander, Laffy.”

Lafayette groaned.

“No grumbling,” Washington scolded as he came home from grocery shopping. “I didn’t know you guys were coming over.”

“We couldn’t get Henriette to stop crying,” Lafayette explained.

“My granddaughter doesn’t cry,” he insisted, a proud gleam in his eyes. He took the baby from his son. “Goodness, she grew again.”

“Adrienne makes the best milk for her,” Lafayette said. He draped his arms over Hamilton’s shoulders and they watched their dad melt over his first grandbaby.


	119. Chapter 119

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer

For the rest of the summer, the Washington’s were in their element. With the new baby, Lafayette and Adrienne visited often, sometimes with Mulligan, and gave Mrs. Washington the full dinner table she loved. Along with Hamilton and Laurens, Washington was surrounded by a good portion of his boys and that always made him smile.

When the doorbell rang, Washington was quick to answer and take his granddaughter. The dogs barked from outside.

“I see where I rank now,” Lafayette teased as his dad fussed over the baby.

“She has a better personality,” Mulligan said.

Lafayette shook his head. “No, she doesn’t. You live with her, too. Henriette screams constantly.”

“You still whine more.”

“Boys,” Adrienne scolded. She set the diaper bag on a nearby bench. “Laffy, can you get me something to drink?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lafayette said and headed for the kitchen, Mulligan at his heels.

“How are things?” Washington asked his daughter-in-law. “Is Lafayette helping enough?”

“He’s still a little unsure,” Adrienne admitted. “But he’s trying and he’ll bring Henriette to me at night to nurse so I don’t have to get out of bed. Herc usually helps in the morning since he works later.”

“Good.” Washington smiled at the tiny baby in his large hands. “Just let me know if I need to yell at him.”

“I will.” She turned to her husband as he brought her a glass of lemonade. 

“Where’s Alex?” Lafayette asked. “The house is way too quiet.”

“Picking up John from work,” Washington said. He bounced Henriette in his arms as she started to fuss. “John’s car isn’t working. Will you and Herc help me look at it after dinner?”

“Of course.” He looked at Mulligan and pointed at the baby. “Whining, again.”

Mulligan rolled his eyes. “She’s a baby. Everything is scary and new. You’re a grown man and were whining about mushrooms on your pizza last night.”

Washington gave Adrienne a sympathetic look. “I am so sorry, dear.”

Adrienne chuckled. “They keep me amused.” She handed the lemonade to her husband and took the baby into the family room to feed her.

The garage door rumbled and the dogs barked again. Mrs. Washington let them inside and they jumped on Hamilton and Laurens as they entered through the side door.

“Baby!” Hamilton squealed. 

“She’s all yours when she’s done eating,” Adrienne told him.

“Yes!” He followed Laurens through the kitchen and ran over to his dad while Laurens went upstairs to change. “Did you miss me?”

“I didn’t know you were gone,” Washington deadpanned. 

“Lies,” Hamilton said. He pulled his dad’s arms around him. “If you had to choose between me and Henriette who would you pick?”

“Wow, don’t even include me,” Lafayette said. He turned to Mulligan. “I’m not loved.”

Mulligan patted him on the shoulder. “Nope.”

Hamilton tilted his head back. “Dad?”

“I’m not picking.” Washington kissed his nose. “Go help Mom get dinner finished.”

Hamilton scampered back to the kitchen and was put to work slicing fruit. After he changed, Laurens set the table. 

Once Henriette finished feeding, Adrienne gave her to Hamilton and took over his task.

Hamilton cuddled her close. “I love the new baby smell.”

“Gross,” Laurens said.

Hamilton held the baby out to him. “Smell her.”

With a sigh, Laurens sniffed the top of Henriette’s head. “You’re delusional, Hammy.”

“Whatever.”

Dinner was soon ready and the family sat down to fried chicken, corn on the cob, macaroni salad, and fruit. 

As the children chattered and teased each other back and forth, Washington stared at his wife across the table. They both smiled, hearts full, having everything they’d always wanted.

“I know Thanksgiving is months away,” Washington broke into the conversation. “But can we take a moment and absorb how much we have to be thankful for?”

Everyone agreed, the brother’s sharing an amused smile at their dad’s sappiness. 

“I’m thankful for my girls,” Lafayette said and squeezed his wife’s hand. “And family and friends. I could never have asked for better ones.”

“Me either,” Hamilton spoke up. “This is more than I ever could have dreamed.” He looked at Washington. “Thank you.” He turned to the foot of the table to his mom. “Both of you. None of us could have done life without you.”

The Washington’s smiled teary-eyed.

“I’m also thankful for Potato,” Hamilton continued and stroked the dog staring at him beside his chair. “She’s a good girl. Noodle, too.”

Noodle barked from behind him.

“I know I’ve always been one of your boys,” Laurens said, “but I’m thankful I get the chance to be one of your sons.”

“We couldn’t be more proud to have you in our family,” Mrs. Washington said. She patted his hand resting on the table. She reached her other toward Adrienne. “You either, dear. You’re both very special to us.”

“Hmph,” Washington said.

“What?” Hamilton asked. “You don’t like my choice?”

“No, John is fine,” he said looking at Lafayette. “I just don’t know how Laf turned out straight.”

Lafayette groaned. “I’m sorry I’m a disappointment.”

Adrienne side hugged him from her chair. “It’s okay, Laffy.”

“Well, you did find an amazing wife,” Washington decided.

“And good friends,” Mulligan added. “Even if you whine a lot, we’ll stick with you.”

“Great.” Lafayette rolled his eyes. 

After the dishes were done, the women with the baby sat out on the front porch while the men gathered around Laurens’ car. 

“You need to clean out your car more often,” Lafayette said as he peered into the backseat.

“Excuse you,” Laurens grumbled. “The back seat isn’t causing the problems.

“It was the other night,” whispered Hamilton.

Laurens elbowed him in the stomach.

Mulligan popped the hood and the two went to work while Washington held a flashlight and offered suggestions.

It didn’t take them long to diagnose the problem.

“See this?” Mulligan pointed to a dirty part under the hood. He droned on while Laurens stared at him blankly and Hamilton yawned.

“Um, sure,” Laurens said. “Can you fix it?”

“John,” Washington said gently, “your car was out of oil. Haven’t you noticed the check oil light on?”

“Probably.”

Washington closed his eyes briefly. “Herc, there should be some oil in the garage. John, do you know how to change the oil?”

“Hell no!” Laurens backed away from his car. “I’m not touching anything under the hood. It’s all dirty.”

“You weren’t complaining the other night,” Hamilton whispered.

Laurens pressed a hand against his boyfriend’s mouth. “Fine. I’ll change the oil or whatever.”

Mulligan came back with a case of oil and showed Laurens what to do. “Pull out the dipstick.”

“Seriously?” Laurens said.

“Don’t make this gay, John,” Lafayette begged.

Making faces, Laurens pulled out the dipstick. “It’s gross.”

“Are you watching, Alexander?” Washington asked. “I should have taught you this a long time ago.”

“I can google it,” Hamilton said.

“Ugh this smells bad,” Laurens whined when Mulligan opened a bottle of oil. “I can feel my gay card being revoked.”

Mulligan glared at him. “I’m gay, too. Anyone can be interested in cars and change the oil.”

“But this is so boring.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Mulligan said, “Just pour in the oil.”

Laurens obeyed while making faces.

Mulligan handed him a second bottle. “Laf, I take back what I said about you whining. John is worse than you.”

“Thank you.” Lafayette smiled.

Finished with the oil, Laurens backed away from the car. “That was awful. Alex, I’m probably not gay enough for you anymore.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “John, I’m bi, it’s fine.”

Laurens kissed him. “Oh, thank goodness that still feels right.”

“You smell like oil,” Hamilton said.

“I’m showering.” Laurens let go of him and ran for the house.

Mulligan slammed the hood down. “Well, we now know how to get rid of John if he’s being annoying.”

“You boys.” Washington shook his head. 

While Mulligan and Lafayette took the empty bottles back into the garage, Washington and Hamilton headed for the porch. As they sat down, they noticed a familiar family walking their way.

“Lecks!” Bess shouted as the Madison family came through the front gate.

“We wanted to see if the baby was here,” Mrs. Madison called out.

“Come on in,” Washington said.

Mr. and Mrs. Madison headed up the driveway with their five youngest children. Bess ran ahead and hugged Hamilton. William and Sarah made it halfway before getting distracted by interesting rocks and amusing themselves playing in the gravel. Nelly holding Reuben’s hand moved slowly behind.

“Let me see the wee thing,” Mrs. Madison said.

Adrienne handed the baby over.

“She’s getting so big,” she cooed. “She looks like you, Adri.”

Adrienne smiled.

Mrs. Madison turned to her husband. “Look at the baby, Jim.”

“I see her,” Mr. Madison said. “Henriette is a fine child.”

“Reuben is almost two.”

“No more, Ellie.” Mr. Madison rubbed his bald head. Only a thin ring of mostly gray hair around the crown of his head remained.

“One more,” she said with a sunny smile.

Mr. Madison looked over the yard at a little over half his children scattered around. “Yes, dear.”

They found seats on the porch and Mrs. Madison continued to hold the baby. Henriette stared at everything going on.

“Alex,” Washington caught his son’s attention as he played slap jack with Bess. “Find your brother and bring out some drinks.”

“Yes, Dad.” Hamilton let Bess smack his hands before he went inside. 

Lafayette and Mulligan peered around the kitchen doorway. “We heard company,” Mulligan said.

“Madison kiddos,” Hamilton said. “Laf, we’re supposed to bring out drinks. Where’s John?”

“Still showering I bet,” Lafayette said. “I’ll find him.”

Hamilton grabbed his arm. “You two are always mean to each other.”

“I’ll be nice, I promise.” He easily moved Hamilton’s hand off and bolted upstairs.

“I won’t be sad if John kills you!” Hamilton shouted.

Since the bathroom door was open and dark, Lafayette knocked on the middle bedroom.

“Come in,” Laurens said.

Lafayette stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Did you get the straight scent off you?”

“Took forever,” Laurens said. He had on shorts and searched for a t-shirt in the dresser. “Laf, may I ask you something?”

“No, but go ahead.”

“Do I have your blessing to marry Alexander?” Laurens stared at the clothes in the drawer.

“Yeah, John.” Lafayette rested a hand on his bare shoulder. “A hundred percent. I know you respect him and care about him.”

Laurens sucked in a deep breath and turned toward him. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“You’re weird as hell, John, but you’re a good guy.” Lafayette patted him on the back.

“Hug?”

“Not until you put on a shirt.”

Laurens grabbed a t-shirt and tugged it over his head. Lafayette pulled his ponytail free of the collar and embraced him.

Not wanting to keep the guests waiting further, Hamilton and Mulligan took out the pitcher of lemonade and glasses. The adults chatted and drank while Hamilton sat on the porch steps and kept Bess and Reuben occupied. Laurens eventually joined him and took Reuben on his lap.

“Boys or girls, Hammy?”

“Both,” Hamilton said.

Laurens rolled his eyes. “We all know that. No preference on what our children are?”

Hamilton cocked his head. “No, unless you do?”

“I don’t think so.” He let the squirming toddler free and watched him pull Bess’ hair. “Our kids are going to be brats either way.”

Bess shrieked. “Benny, no!”

“No pull, Reuben,” Hamilton chided and soothed Bess.

“Sad,” Reuben whispered.

“Yes, you made Bess sad.” Hamilton patted his mop of blond curls. “We don’t hurt other people.”

“Sorry.”

“I accept,” Bess told her brother. She pinched Hamilton’s nose and ran off to see what Willian and Sarah were doing.

Hamilton rubbed his nose and found Laurens staring at him. “What?”

“I take it back, I don’t think our kids will be brats.” He pulled Hamilton closer to him. “Not with you raising them.”

Hamilton looked over his shoulder at his parents laughing with the Madison’s and du Montier’s. “I learned from Dad. Respect and understanding go a long way. I don’t want our kids to ever feel like they don’t have a voice.”

Laurens kissed him. “They won’t. Our kids will never experience the lives we did.”

Hamilton moved to sit on his boyfriend’s lap. “Good.”


	120. Chapter 120

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wedding

Jefferson woke and snuggled closer to Madison. The windows were open and the apartment had a refreshing chill to it, perfect for staying warm under the blankets. The summer had flown by and autumn announced itself with red and orange leaves and a crisp freshness in the air.

But Lily and Grace cared for none of that. They saw movement and jumped on the bed, motors purring hard. Although Madison had cried when they returned the kittens to the shelter at eight-weeks, he hadn’t protested as they had, indeed, become very active and wild as they grew. Just the two mature cats were plenty right then.

Madison stirred in Jefferson’s arms and opened his eyes to Lily’s flat, furry face.

Grace climbed on Jefferson’s shoulder and licked his ear.

“Morning,” Jefferson murmured. 

Nudging Lily back, Madison rolled over. He stroked Jefferson’s cheek. “It’s a _good_ morning,” he said. “I get to marry you today.”

Jefferson smiled, eyes still closed. “That _is_ a good morning.” He stopped Grace from biting his ear and opened his eyes. Contented happiness filled him and he almost didn’t know what to do with the sensation.

Madison kissed his forehead. “I’ll feed the cats. We should leave about eleven to drop off the girls at my parents and be at the country club by noon.”

“Okay.” Jefferson rolled on his back. “Will you come back to bed?”

“Yes.” Madison slipped out of the warm blankets, cats running ahead to their food bowls. He fed them and returned to Jefferson’s warmth, burrowing into him. “Are you ready?”

“I think so.” Jefferson stroked his cheek. “A little nervous.”

“Same. Well, a lot nervous,” Madison admitted and a shiver of nerves and excitement ran through him.

“I’ll be with you the whole time.” Jefferson kissed him. “And forever.”

Madison snuggled closer. “I like the sound of that.”

They stayed tight in each other arms until nine o’clock when both their phones rang. They rolled away from each other to answer.

“Angelica,” Jefferson said.

“Alex,” said Madison.

“Yes, best gal?” Jefferson answered the phone.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t ruining your honeymoon,” Angelica teased. “What time am I supposed to meet you?”

Jefferson groaned. “Haven’t I told you like a dozen times? Did you and Alexander plan this? He just called Jemmy.”

“Perhaps,” Angelica said. “Time?”

“Meet us at the country club at noon,” Jefferson said. “We’ll get ready there. See you later.” He hung up as Madison shouted, “Alexander! You can’t forget our suits!”

Hamilton chuckled on the other line. “Don’t worry, little duck, it’s all good. I already got them. I will see you at noon.”

“Thank you, Alex,” Madison said and hung up. “Our friends are annoying.”

“No kidding.” Jefferson opened his arms and Madison cuddled close again.

They couldn’t say in bed much longer. Madison got up a half hour later to eat something and shower, then Jefferson did the same once he was finished.

“Angelica can help with my hair, right?” Madison asked as he combed his long caramel-colored hair.

Jefferson stuck his head out of the shower. “I dunno if she can do anything with your white boy hair.” He grinned.

Madison rolled his eyes. “I just need someone to straighten it. It’s all frizzy.”

“It looks perfect, Jem.”

Madison smiled at him, but said, “Finish your shower. I don’t want to be rushed.” He checked over the bag he’d packed the day before with makeup and supplies to take with to the country club. He dressed in sweats and a hoodie. The cats watched as if they knew today was different.

“It’s ten-thirty, T,” Madison said. He set the toiletry bag next to the door along with cat food and bowls for the girls.

Jefferson turned off the shower and got out. “We’re good on time, Jem.” He wrapped a towel around his waist.

Madison joined him in the bathroom again and touched his damp chest.

“What?” Jefferson asked.

“Admiring the fact that no one else will ever get to touch you in a few hours.” Madison smiled up at him.

Jefferson kissed his nose. “I like the sound of that.” He grabbed another towel and patted his hair. “Is there anything you wanted to try on our honeymoon?”

Madison shrugged. “I know you’re—”

“Jem, it’s our honeymoon,” Jefferson interrupted. “I’ll be excited to have sex with you. Probably not tonight since we’ll be wasted as fuck, but tomorrow when we’re at our hotel… I’m going to make you happier then you’ve ever been. So if you have any ideas, don’t be afraid to tell me or show me.”

“Okay.” Madison ran a finger down the center of Jefferson’s chest. “I do have a few ideas.”

Jefferson took his hand and kissed it. “Good. Let me get dressed and we’ll get the girls to your parents.”

Ten minutes later, the couple and cats were on their way to Montpelier where Lily and Grace would stay while Jefferson and Madison were on their honeymoon. It was a quick drop off and the boys headed to the country club.

Hamilton and Angelica waited for them.

“Excited?” Hamilton asked.

“Nauseous,” Madison replied as he trembled.

“I’m going to agree,” Jefferson said. He led the way inside and to the banquet hall. Nearby were two dressing rooms. Hamilton and Madison went in one while Jefferson and Angelica took the other.

Jefferson stared at his suit hanging from a hook on the wall. The pants and vest were gray pinstriped, the shirt lilac with a coordinating floral tie. “I’m not sure if I want to scream, cry, or throw up,” he said.

“Just don’t get any bodily fluids on your suit,” Angelica replied. She studied her ivory and lilac dress. “Jemmy really knows his color schemes.”

“I know.” Jefferson took a deep breath and began to undress.

They helped each other with buttons and zippers. Jane arrived to help fix Jefferson’s hair while Angelica did her own.

Jane sat her brother down at the large vanity and dug into her bag of supplies. She conditioned and gelled up Jefferson’s hair until it fell in shiny, tamed curls above his collar. “Perfect.” She fluffed it up a bit.

When she finished styling her own curly hair, Angelica went next door and helped Madison. She straightened his hair and applied his subtle makeup and lip-gloss.

Finished, she grabbed something from her purse. “I thought you might like this.” She held up a hair clip with sparkly strands that would hang down his long hair. “Just a little flair to go with your tie clip.”

Madison smiled as he touched the tie clip that had belonged to Jefferson’s father. “I love it.”

Angelica clipped it in his hair and nodded her approval. “Put your jacket on so we can get the full effect.” She turned to Hamilton. “You actually look nice, Alex.”

Hamilton smoothed down his tie that matched Jefferson’s. Thanks.”

Madison slipped on his ivory jacket that matched his pants. He wore a lilac dress shirt and tie.

Angelica and Hamilton stepped back to admire him.

“Thomas is going to cry,” Angelica murmured as her own eyes shimmered. “You look too perfect, James.”

Madison ducked his head. “Not too flashy?”

“Nah, you look great,” Hamilton said. “Grown up.”

Madison smiled. “Good.”

Hamilton slipped in the adjacent dressing room to see how things were going. “Dang, T, you look sharp.”

Jefferson stopped fiddling with the buttons on his vest. “I’m so nervous.”

“It’s James, you don’t need to freak out,” Hamilton said in a soothing tone. “And it’ll be over in a few minutes.”

Jefferson sucked in a shaky breath. “I just want everything to go perfect for him.”

“It will,” Hamilton assured. “James is a lucky man.”

“I hope so.” Jefferson tugged at his vest. “He deserves the world.”

“I think if he had a choice,” Hamilton said watching Jefferson’s face, “that he would still choose you.”

Jefferson looked away before he cried. “Don’t be sappy, Alexander. Be a man, dammit.”

Hamilton grinned and punched his arm. “We’re all going to cry, you know that, right?”

“Please try not to for my sake,” Jefferson said and looked back at Hamilton. “If any of you start, I’ll be done for.”

“We’ll try.” Hamilton checked the time on his phone. “We have a half hour. I should get back to him and return your best gal.”

“Thanks,” Jefferson said. He paced the small room until Angelica opened the door.

“Your mom is here,” she said. “She wants to say hi.”

Jefferson followed her out and found his family mingling in a small room before the banquet hall and drinking champagne.

Mrs. Jefferson hugged him tightly. “My baby boy,” she gushed. “Your father would be so proud of you.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

Jefferson sniffled. “Thanks, Mom.”

She pulled a tissue out of her purse and handed it to him. “You know Jemmy will start if you do,” she scolded mildly.

Jefferson managed a smile as he dabbed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

His sibling crowded around, congratulating and teasing him.

“Ready, Thomas?” Hamilton called above the noise. “It’s time.”

Jefferson took his mom’s hands and followed Hamilton into the banquet hall. He looked around as he walked toward another room having no clue what Madison had decided on for decorations. Everything was classic, clean, ivory and lilac. Jefferson smiled his approval. Not long ago Madison would have insisted on something much flashier, bolder, probably with unicorns. He’d grown up and he was still amazing.

Soon Mr. and Mrs. Madison joined them with Bess as the flower girl and Reuben as the ring bearer. Angelica followed close behind ready to walk up with Hamilton. The boy’s parents would escort the grooms. Jefferson had tried to encourage Madison to walk the aisle himself to get the full attention but he balked at the idea and wanted them to be equal.

The minister poked his head in. “Are we ready?”

“Waiting on James,” Hamilton said.

“Here,” Madison squeaked from behind the minister. He scanned the room until his wild eyes landed on Jefferson. His face softened as Jefferson held his fingers up in a heart shape.

Everything happened quickly. The little children were sent up to the “aww’s” of the crowd. Hamilton and Angelica followed.

Mrs. Jefferson took her son’s arm. “Ready?”

Jefferson nodded. He glanced at Madison one last time and headed up the aisle.

Everyone stood, but Jefferson could only stare straight ahead and focus on stopping his hands from shaking. That went away when he watched Madison walk up with his parents. He was perfect, beautiful.

Jefferson took Madison’s hand once he was in reach. His bottom lip quivered as he stared at his very soon-to-be husband. “Perfect,” he whispered.

Madison smiled and whispered back, “I love you.”

Jefferson squeezed his hands as the minister began to speak.

The ceremony was a blur. Neither faltered in their vows, eyes locked on each other. Madison managed not to cry but tears glistened in Jefferson’s eyes and finally spilled before they kissed.

The crowd cheered as they kissed and Jefferson swept Madison up in his arms. He carried him back down the aisle and they retreated into one of the dressing rooms to compose themselves before pictures.

“Well, you held together better,” Jefferson said. He pressed one hand to his pounding heart and wiped his eyes with the other.

Madison smiled. “I just kept thinking about what I’m going to do to you tomorrow.”

Jefferson swatted him. “You’re so naughty, Mr. Jefferson.”

A smile broke across Madison’s face. “I like that.”

“Good.” Jefferson pulled him close and kissed him. “You look amazing.”

“You do, too, T.” Madison rested his head against Jefferson’s chest. “Ready for pictures?”

“I’d rather eat,” Jefferson admitted.

“Same, babe.” He took Jefferson’s hand and dragged him out.

Pictures probably could have lasted an hour, but after a half hour, both decided what was taken was good enough.

“Jemmy needs to eat,” Jefferson said as an excuse. “He’s getting faint.” His own stomach growled and he was about ready to punch the photographer if he was asked to smile one more time.

Most of their family had already headed to Montpelier where the reception and food were. More people had been invited to the party and a crowd greeted them inside as the newlywed Jefferson’s entered the house.

It was easy enough to smile and accept hugs and handshakes as they eased their way into the house and toward the food the caterers had just finished setting up.

Madison and Jefferson grabbed plates and started the line. Hamilton and Angelica followed behind.

“I can’t believe you cried, T,” Hamilton teased.

“You were crying, too,” snitched Angelica. “Washington had to give you a tissue.”

“Hush.”

Jefferson smiled to himself. It seemed like a lifetime ago that Hamilton and himself couldn’t be in the same room together and had humiliated each other without mercy. He was glad one thing had remained the same, though: his affection for his Jemmy.

Madison cleared his plate in record time, and he and Jefferson both went back for seconds.

“You both looked so handsome!” Grandma Jefferson gushed as she stopped them. “I can’t believe my little Thomas is married.”

“Me either,” Jefferson said with a smile at Madison.

Grandma Jefferson handed an envelope to Madison. “You keep your husband in line, okay, boy? That’s for you only.” She kissed Madison’s forehead.

“Thank you,” Madison whispered and looked to Jefferson.

Jefferson touched his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Grandma, he’ll take care of me.”

“Good.” Grandma Jefferson hugged him and let them get their food. Madison stashed the envelope in his suit pocket to open later.

Once most of the food was eaten and several drinks consumed, Hamilton clanged his glass with a knife to give his best man speech.

Everyone at the wedding table groaned before Hamilton even opened his mouth.

“I’ve known Jemmy for about six years,” he said. “I’ve known Thomas for about five, although it seems like a lot longer since the first year we knew each other was agony.” He grinned at Jefferson who shook his head.

“I have a special bond with both of them,” Hamilton continued. “I met Jemmy during my senior year of high school and fell in love with his quirky determined personality.” His face softened into a smile as his eyes met the smaller groom. “I’ve never met anyone stronger than him. I’ve also known no one more devoted. As long as I’ve known Jemmy, he wanted to marry Thomas. I’ve never known them to disrespect each other or put the other down. I believe that is what true love is. Those two have it in spades.” He held up his glass. “To my dear friends.”

Madison clinked his glass with Hamilton’s. “That was beautiful.”

“Not as bad as I feared,” Jefferson said as he tapped his glass.

“I know.” Hamilton smiled at both of them. “I love you, guys.”

Madison kissed his cheek while Jefferson ruffled his hair.

Angelica got everyone’s attention again. “I didn’t grow up with a brother and I’m glad I didn’t because no brother could ever be as amazing as Thomas is to me.”

Jefferson smiled at her, almost in tears again.

“He’s always been there for me,” Angelica went on. “Always there for his siblings and friends. I pity those who don’t see his kind heart. I’m blessed to have you in my life, Thomas, and I know you are even more blessed to have Jemmy at your side.”

Jefferson stood and hugged her.

When they sat down, Washington stood and tapped his glass. “Will you boys allow another toast?”

“Please,” Jefferson said wiping at his eyes.

Washington smiled at them. “Watching you dear boys grow up and become friends brought me great joy. I know you both have their anxiety and fears but you’ve always been strong together. You don’t doubt each other. You might never have been my foster boys, but you’re still my boys, and I couldn’t be more proud.”

Jefferson and Madison raised their glasses.

“We couldn’t have done it without you, sir,” Jefferson said. He pulled Madison up from the table and they headed toward Washington to hug him and Mrs. Washington.

“Don’t be stranger to our table,” Washington said, a hand on Madison’s shoulder. “If you boys ever need anything, you know where to find us.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jefferson said.

As their guests continued to drink and eat cupcakes, Jefferson and Madison mingled before the dancing started. They accepted congrats from family and sought out the rest of their friends. Theodosia and Burr had made it to the reception and both hugged Madison. Hamilton kept Laurens occupied and supplied with liquor to avoid any unwanted tussles between the two.

Dancing started with a mother/son dance.

“Are you ready for this?” Mrs. Jefferson asked her son as she held him close. “Jemmy is a lot of work.”

“Oh, I know,” said Jefferson. “But how long have I already been taking care of him? I couldn’t imagine not.”

Mrs. Jefferson squeezed his tighter. “I know.”

Mrs. Madison brushed her son’s hair back over his shoulder. “How many cats are you going to end up adopting?”

Madison rested his head on his mom’s shoulder. “All of them. Thomas won’t care.”

“I know. He loves you very much.”

For the father/son dance, Jefferson pulled Washington onto the floor with him.

“I’m honored, son,” Washington said, “but you know I can’t dance.”

“Oh, you can,” Jefferson teased. “You’ve had a few drinks.” He took Washington’s hand.

By the time the couples danced together, Madison lagged and rested his face against Jefferson’s chest.

“Tired?” Jefferson asked. “Stand on my shoes.”

Madison did so and let Jefferson moved him around. “Do you think it would be okay if I laid down?” Madison asked. “Just for a little bit.”

“Yeah.” Jefferson kissed his forehead.

When the dance ended, they slipped out and headed upstairs.

“Not sick, are you?” Jefferson asked as he opened the door to Madison’s room. The cats jumped off the bed to greet them.

“Just worn out.” Madison petted each cat before he took off his jacket and shoes. He set his tie on the dresser and unbuttoned his shirt. “I’ll come back downstairs in a half hour or so.”

Jefferson pulled the blankets back on his bed. “Okay, Jem. I don’t know where our phones are. Will you be alright?”

Madison nodded. He stepped out of his pants and got in bed. Lily curled close to his head and licked his nose.

Jefferson turned off the light and closed the door quietly. Lying down sounded like a good idea to him, too, but he returned downstairs.

“Where’s Jemmy?” Burr asked at once.

“He needed to rest for a bit,” Jefferson said. He sat next to him and accepted a drink. He watched the crowd on the dance floor, picking out friends and family. He smiled to see Marty J dancing with Ambrose and wondered if there wouldn’t be another Jefferson/Madison family someday.

He looked at Burr. “Angelica says you and Theodosia are thinking about marriage.”

Burr nodded. “Crazy, right?”

“Nah.” Jefferson patted his hand. “You’re growing up. I’m going to see if John will let me cut in. You should dance with Jane seeing as your girlfriend stole Angelica.” He got up from the table.

Burr looked toward the dance floor and saw Angelica twirling Theodosia around.

Jefferson bowed to Hamilton and Laurens. “May I intrude, John?”

Laurens grinned. “Go for it.”

Jefferson took Hamilton’s hand and rested his other against his waist.

“Is James okay?” Hamilton asked.

“Worn out,” Jefferson replied. “It’s a big day.”

“No shit.” Hamilton rested his cheek against Jefferson’s shoulder. “I’m happy for both of you. I put you guys through a lot. I’m glad you never listened to me.”

“You’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met,” Jefferson said. “And that includes my husband. Trust me; I would never listen to you.”

Hamilton smiled and closed his eyes. “You know I love both of you, though, right?”

“I know.” Jefferson kissed his head.

The next song was fast and Jefferson let go of Hamilton. He watched him return to Laurens and went upstairs to check on Madison.

Both cats lay on top of him. Since he was sound asleep, Jefferson let him be and returned downstairs for another drink.

Hamilton sat next to him and set down two cupcakes. “Do you need any tips for your honeymoon?”

“Not from you.” Jefferson peeled back the wrapper and finished the cupcake in two bites. “I’ve heard too many stories about your sex life.”

Hamilton giggled. Drunkenness darkened his florid complexion. “Use protection.”

Jefferson unwrapped the second cupcake. “I know.” He licked at the frosting. “Going to tell me not to do drugs and stay in school, too?” He popped the cake in his mouth.

“Nah, I would do drugs with you.” He took a sip of Jefferson’s drink. “I want to propose to John.”

Jefferson struggled to swallow the large mouthful of cake. “Good for you, Alex.”

“Do you think it’s too soon, though?” Hamilton asked. “We still don’t have any money or a place of our own. I suppose we could do a long engagement.”

Jefferson shrugged. “You can make your living situation work. Jem and I will probably move back here eventually. It’s not as if any of us is going to accidentally get pregnant and be raising a kid at our parent’s house. I think you and John could make it work.”

Hamilton nodded. He glanced at the two cupcake wrappers. “You ate my fucking cupcake, T.”

“It was really good,” Jefferson said. He took a long sip of his drink. “Get some more and I’ll get us some shots.”

Another cupcake and a shot later, Jefferson danced with Angelica, then Jane, and ended with Theodosia.

“I did not realize you were this short,” Jefferson told her as he stared at the top of her head.

“You really aren’t good with girls,” Theodosia replied.

“Nope.”

“Where’s James?” she asked and just avoided having her foot crushed.

“Resting. I should go check on him.”

Once the song ended, Jefferson stumbled upstairs.

Madison remained asleep but Jefferson shook him awake. “You should come downstairs for a bit,” he slurred.

Madison rubbed his eyes. “How much did you drink?” He moved the cats off and yawned.

“I dunno. Please?”

Madison got out of bed and fought another yawn. “Let me dress.”

“You look cute.” Jefferson poked his stomach.

“I’m tired and you’re wasted as fuck.” Madison slipped on his pants and buttoned up his dress shirt. He forewent the jacket, tie, and shoes.

Jefferson led him downstairs and to their friends drunken dancing.

Hamilton grabbed Madison’s hand. “Yay! You’re back.” He twirled Madison around and hugged him. “Want a drink?”

Madison shook his head. “Is there any cupcakes left?”

Hamilton went with him to check and they grabbed a few from the dwindled tower. “You’re not sick, right?” he asked. “You have to go on your honeymoon.”

“A little overwhelmed,” Madison said. He bit into the cupcake and got frosting all over his lips.

“Understandable.”

The party began to quiet down. A van had been hired to take drunk guests home that lived in the Estates, which was most of them.

Yawning, Madison pulled Jefferson upstairs. They undressed and booted the cats to the floor.

Jefferson cuddled his husband close and kissed him for a whole five seconds before he fell asleep.

Madison snuggled close as his exhausted limbs sank into the bed. _Mr. Jefferson_ , he thought to himself and a smile spread across his face.


	121. Chapter 121

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Honeymoon - part 1

Madison’s alarm went off at eight. Jefferson groaned and covered his eyes.

“Nope, get up,” Madison said and yanked the blankets away. “We need to be on the road by nine.”

Jefferson dragged himself off the bed. “I’m up.” He stared around in confusion for a moment since he’d forgotten they’d spend the night at Montpelier.

Everything they needed was ready to go. After dressing, Madison fed the cats and told them what was going on and to be good girls. Jefferson dragged their bags downstairs, yawning but ready to begin the honeymoon.

Mrs. Madison was the only one around and saw them off with hugs and a little extra cash.

With their preferred morning drinks—coffee for Jefferson and chocolate milk for Madison—the newlyweds loaded up Mr. Madison’s car. It would get them a lot better gas mileage than Jefferson’s truck. They planned to eat breakfast in a small town on the itinerary Madison mapped out.

“You’re okay to drive, right?” Madison asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Just need some coffee,” Jefferson said. “Can you put in the address?” He handed his phone over to use the GPS.

They were soon headed north, quiet as they enjoyed their drinks and woke up more. Jefferson’s stomach growled as they neared the first destination.

It was a quaint, little town, a drive-through destination to somewhere bigger but Madison saw the potential and it was on the way to their hotel anyway.

Jefferson parked along the side of the road and they walked down the street to the café. The cool morning had worn off and the sun shone bright and warm.

Madison took Jefferson’s hand and leaned against him as they walked. “Do you think the girls will behave themselves?”

Jefferson smiled at him. “I’m sure they will.” He opened the café door and Madison ducked under his arm.

They were seated at once and Jefferson ordered more coffee.

“The reviews said everything was good,” Madison said as they browsed the menu. “I’m thinking French toast and fruit.”

“Fruit, huh?” Jefferson teased. “Good boy.”

Madison rolled his eyes.

“I need real food, though,” Jefferson said. “Bacon, sausage, eggs, hashbrowns.”

“Hungry?”

“When am I not?

Madison smiled. “Same.”

The waitress gave them a cheery greeting as she stopped at their table. “New faces,” she said. “What brings you through here?”

“Our honeymoon,” Jefferson said. “We’re heading upstate.”

“Congrats,” she said. “It’s a beautiful time of year to head north. What can I get you?”

They placed their order and gazed at each other.

“So, what is your plan tonight?” Jefferson asked. He picked up his coffee mug.

“Like I can discuss that in public,” Madison replied with a devilish grin.

Jefferson choked on his drink.

It didn’t take long for the food to arrive and they dove hungrily into their meals.

Once paid, Madison led the way along the quiet streets.

“There are an antique store and a candy shop we have to visit before we head out,” he said.

Jefferson squeezed his hand. “Lead the way, Mr. Jefferson.”

The antique store was small and crammed with plenty to look at. The shop owner greeted them with a pleasant hello and left them to look around.

“T, look!” Madison said within minutes and pointed to a pair of vintage porcelain cats. “They look like Lily and Grace.”

Jefferson picked one up. “Only two bucks, Jem, better get them.”

Madison grinned and took the second one.

Jefferson wandered ahead to a shelf of old books.

The store owner made his way back to him. “How’re we doing?”

“Great,” Jefferson said.

“Just passing through?”

“Yeah.” Jefferson indicated to Madison looking at old toys. “Honeymoon.”

“Ah. An antique store would catch your eye.”

Jefferson chuckled and realized how stereotypical it was. “Indeed.”

The store owner left him to continue browsing.

He didn’t find any books and returned to Madison. “See anything else you like?”

“Everything,” Madison said.

Jefferson kissed his head. “I’d buy you everything if I could.”

“That’s why I love you.”

Not wanting to be too late getting to their hotel, Jefferson paid for the cat figurines and they headed to the candy shop across the street. There, Madison picked out two kinds of fudge and Jefferson got some chocolate covered peanuts.

Back on the road, and more awake now, they chatted and teased each other while eating sweets.

Madison had mapped out several other potential towns that looked interesting and they picked one to stop in for a late lunch around two.

“Let’s get sandwiches and eat at the park,” Madison said pointing out the window at the park in peak autumn glory. A pond shimmered in the distance.

Jefferson found a place to park and they walked around until they found a sandwich shop. They returned to the park and sat near the pond.

After eating, Madison situated himself between Jefferson’s legs and leaned against him.

Jefferson wrapped his arms around his husband and rested his chin on Madison’s head. “This is very peaceful.”

“Yeah.” Madison closed his eyes and let the warmth of Jefferson’s arms and the fall day seep into him.

They still had another hour to go in the car and couldn’t linger too much longer. Jefferson picked up the food wrappers and Madison skipped ahead to the car.

Their destination was a small, tourist town full of old houses, maple trees, and little shops. Jefferson parked in front of a Victorian style house that was now a bed-and-breakfast. It was set back from the street and surrounded by a wrought-iron fence. The front door was painted a cheery light blue along with the wooden shutters.

“This is cute, Jem,” Jefferson said as he popped the trunk.

Madison gathered their candy and followed him to take his backpack while Jefferson grabbed the two suitcases.

They headed through the front gate and up the porch steps. A gray cat meowed lazily from the porch swing where it claimed a worn, cat fur-covered cushion. Madison instantly went to say hi and the cat purred and nudged his hand.

Jefferson rang the doorbell.

An older lady soon answered the door with a smile. “Good evening. You must be the Jefferson’s? I’m Lydia.”

Jefferson couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Come along.”

Jefferson let Madison go first and dragged the suitcases behind.

“What’s your cat’s name?” Madison asked softly.

“Moon.” Lydia smiled at him. “Do you have a cat?”

“Two.” Madison ducked his head bashfully. “Lily and Grace.”

“Lovely.” She showed them upstairs and to the end of the hall. “You’ll have your own bathroom with the suite. Breakfast is between seven and eight and dinner is between five and six. If you need a picnic lunch, let me know the night before.”

“Thanks,” Jefferson said.

She unlocked their door with an old-fashion key and handed it to Madison. “Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.” She smiled at Madison. “We want you to have a pleasant time. Dinner will be ready shortly if you plan to join.”

Jefferson glanced at Madison who nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll let you get settled.”

Jefferson dragged the suitcases into the room. A wide window looked out over the backyard and an orchard behind it. Apples hung heavy on the trees. Inside, the room hosted a king-size canopied bed, rolltop desk, a floral-patterned armchair, and an antique armoire and dresser.

“This suits us, doesn’t it?” Jefferson said with a laugh. “This is great, Jem.” He dropped on the bed, pleased with the softness.

“I thought so,” Madison said. He settled himself on Jefferson’s lap and snuggled into him. “How long before five?”

“About a half hour.” Jefferson stroked Madison’s hair. “Why? You gonna undress me already?”

Madison grinned.

Jefferson set Madison on the floor and lay back on the bed. “Go ahead.”

“For real?” Madison stared at him.

Jefferson raised his head up. “Have some confidence in me, Jemmy. It’s our honeymoon. I can achieve some horniness for you for a day or two.”

“Okay.” Madison climbed on the bed and straddled him. He slipped his hands under Jefferson’s shirt and pulled it over his head. He bent down and kissed his husband’s chest, trailing his lips down and his toned stomach.

Jefferson kept his eyes closed, arms over his head. Not turned on, but he’d grown to enjoy Madison’s touch and embrace it for the closeness it gave them. He flinched with ticklishness when Madison’s fingers stroked down his sides.

“You’re going to be wild tonight, right?” Madison asked as he nuzzled Jefferson’s neck. “I want you all over me.”

“I will,” Jefferson promised. “I brought, like, four bottles of wine.”

“Sweet!”

Jefferson rolled over on top of his husband and managed to get Madison’s long hair caught beneath him.

Madison grunted and tugged his hair free. He grinned at Jefferson’s apologetic face and pulled off the hair tie Jefferson always wore on his wrist. “You’re good.” He tied his hair back and lay back.

A few kisses in, Jefferson elicited a soft purr from his husband. He groaned as he hardened, annoyed at the biological functions. “You’re skilled, babe.”

“I know.” Madison reached down to undo his jeans. “We have time. Your record is, what, twenty seconds?”

Jefferson nipped at Madison’s lip. “Thirty-five.” He rolled Madison on top of him.

Forty-five seconds, Jefferson grunted, “New record.”

“You’re amazing, T,” Madison said through a giggle.

A soft smile relaxed Jefferson’s face. “I try.”

They allowed themselves a few more minutes before they got up, cleaned off, and changed for dinner. They couldn’t stop smiling at each other.

Hand in hand, the couple headed down to the dining room. Three other guests joined them: a young couple and a single woman.

Introductions were made as the food was passed around.

“How long have you two been together?” Lydia asked Jefferson.

Jefferson glanced at his partner. “Four years?”

Madison nodded.

Lydia asked the other couple who had been together for two years.

Wine was served with dinner and Madison smirked as he watched Jefferson finish his first glass before anyone else was even close.

“Make sure you don’t drink too much and fall asleep on me,” he whispered.

Jefferson grinned as he poured himself another glass. “I’ll try not to.”

They excused themselves first. Once upstairs, Madison raced ahead and baited Jefferson to chase him.

Jefferson did, catching him inside their room and throwing him on the bed.

Madison howled with laughter as Jefferson tickled him. “The—door—is—open,” he panted between giggles.

Jefferson nuzzled Madison’s neck and tickled him until he squealed before he let up to close and lock the door.

Madison rolled off the bed and grabbed a bottle of wine from Jefferson’s suitcase and poured two cups. “So,” he began, “I maybe want to try being on top. Do you think it would work?”

“We’ll try when we’re drunk enough.” Jefferson took a large swallow from his cup. He set it on the nightstand and lifted Madison in his arms. “May I undress you?”

“Please.”

Jefferson stood his husband on the bed. He unbuttoned Madison’s shirt, tongue poking out of his mouth as he concentrated. He slipped it off his partner’s shoulders and kissed his exposed skin and trailed his lips down Madison’s thin chest.

Madison tensed and his breathing sped up. He touched Jefferson’s hair.

Jefferson moved his head.

“Sorry,” Madison whispered.

“No, go for it,” Jefferson said. “You’re a Jefferson now.”

Madison twisted his fingers into his dense, curls. “This stuff is like magic,” he murmured.

Jefferson chuckled. “Okay, but hands out because I’m taking you down.”

Hands withdrawn, Jefferson hooked a hand behind his husband’s knees and knocked him to the bed.

“Now what?” Jefferson asked.

“You trust me, right?”

Jefferson nodded.

Ten minutes later and drunk, Jefferson couldn’t stop giggling.

“Don’t hit the silly state already,” Madison bemoaned. But it was contagious and he was laughing seconds later, then howling when Jefferson tickled him.

They fell to the floor with a crash, legs tangled together.

“We’re going to be banned from here,” Jefferson said and struggled to catch his breath.

Madison kissed him. “You’re my world, you know that?”

A smile spread across Jefferson’s lips. “And you’re mine.”


	122. Chapter 122

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Honeymoon - part 2

Madison rolled over and squinted at the bright sunlight seeping through the half-closed curtains. He checked his phone for the time: ten-twenty. He stretched and flung his arm across his husband.

Jefferson grunted. “No.”

“It’s after ten, T.” Madison rubbed his eyes carefully as they stung from having slept in his contacts. “We got stuff to do.” He kicked the blankets back and draped his legs over his partner.

“Five more minutes,” Jefferson mumbled.

Madison straddled his chest and played with his hair. “We’re going shopping.”

Jefferson opened his eyes a sliver. “Why don’t you get ready? I’ll get up when you’re done in the bathroom.”

“I’ve heard that before.” But Madison scrambled off him and headed into the small bathroom. He showered, careful not to get his hair wet, and dressed in black skinny sweatpants and a purple t-shirt. He tossed a lavender fleece pullover on the bed to wear outside.

Jefferson dragged himself out of bed. When he came out of the bathroom, he watched Madison applying his makeup, a little concealer, foundation, some mineral powder, and lip-gloss.

“You wear that because you like it and not because you think you’re ugly, right?” Jefferson asked. He pulled on a pair of cargo pants.

“Yes,” Madison said. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Jefferson dropped the purple v-neck tee he had in his hands. “Apparently not.”

“I’m wearing purple, Thomas.” Madison pointed at himself. “We’re not matching.”

“Sorry.” Jefferson pulled out a navy Henley. “This?”

“Sure.” Madison put away his makeup and brushed out his long hair and parted it far to the left. “Can I go full ‘Jemmy’ today?”

Jefferson looked up from tying his boots. “Like…?”

Madison held up a purple faux-hair clip-in.

“Yeah, I like those.”

Madison secured it in his hair. “Ready.” He grabbed a pair of gray sneakers and his pullover.

They headed downstairs and found Lydia in the lobby dusting the mantle over the fireplace. “You’re a bit late for breakfast,” she said with a smile.

“Any recommendations for brunch?” Jefferson asked.

“Well, I might be biased but my sister’s café has good food,” she said. “It’s two blocks down.”

“Thanks.” Jefferson took Madison’s hand and they headed outside.

After brunch, they browsed through the shops in town. Another antique store, bookstore, several gift shops, and a candy shop.

“There’s a pet boutique!” Madison pointed across the street. He stepped into the road without looking.

Jefferson snatched him back as a car drove by. “Don’t die on our honeymoon.”

“Sorry.” Madison clasped Jefferson’s hand.

They crossed the street and entered the pet boutique.

It didn’t take Madison long to find a million things that Lily and Grace needed.

“They’re not wearing clothes,” Jefferson put his foot down as Madison held up cat dresses. He browsed through a display of collars. “What about Christmas collars?” He held up a red and white striped one.

“Yes!” Madison joined him. “But that one is ugly.” He picked out a red one printed with tiny candy canes and a blue one with snowflakes.

“Lily needs this one, too.” Jefferson showed him a purple collar with a unicorn charm.

“Forget Lily, I need that,” Madison exclaimed. “I could wear it as a bracelet, right?”

Jefferson chuckled. “I bet you could pull that off.” He wrapped an arm around his husband and held him close. “But if you want something with a unicorn, I want to show you something I saw earlier.”

Madison tilted his head back to look at him. “Okay. Can I get this for Lily, though? You can pick out another for Grace.”

“Of course.” Jefferson found a light green collar with a daisy charm.

He paid for the collars, two knitted toy mice, and two new food bowls. Outside, he led Madison down the street to a store they had bypassed earlier. Jefferson pointed to the display in the window.

Madison’s face lit up at the large stuffed unicorn. It was white with purple sparkly hooves and horn. “It’s a hundred dollars, T,” he murmured. “I don’t need it that bad.”

“If it was cheaper, would you want it?” Jefferson asked.

“For sure.”

“Then I’m getting it for you.” Jefferson pulled him in the store. He headed to the front counter. “That unicorn in the window is for sale, right?”

The lady smiled at him. “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll take it.”

The lady walked around the counter to get it. “You’re going to make some little girl very happy.”

Jefferson grinned. “Nah, but I know it’ll make my husband happy.”

She turned around with the unicorn and spotted Madison. “For you?”

Madison nodded.

She handed it over. From behind the counter, she grabbed a small box. “This comes with it.”

Jefferson opened the box to find a pair friendship necklaces. “Hell, yeah.” He pulled out one and secured it around Madison’s neck. He took out the other one and studied the chain.

“I can find a longer one,” the woman said at once. She headed in the back and returned within a minute with a chain long enough to fit Jefferson’s neck. She transferred the charm and handed it over.

Jefferson secured it around his neck. “Perfect.” He handed over the cash and thanked the woman.

Madison clung to his giant unicorn, about half his size, and followed Jefferson outside. “You’re like the most amazing person ever,” he gushed. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“You’re the real prize,” Jefferson replied. He wrapped an arm around Madison’s shoulder since he needed both hands to carry the unicorn. “Ready to head back for dinner?”

“Yeah.” 

After dinner, Madison called his mom to check up on the cats; both were doing fine and had found favor with Nelly and slept in her room.

When he got off the phone, Jefferson looked up from his own phone. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Hiking.”

“Your version of hiking or mine?” Jefferson asked.

“Mine.” Madison climbed on his lap. “It’s an easy walk through the pretty fall trees. Oh, you should let Lydia know we need a picnic lunch for tomorrow.”

Jefferson nuzzled his husband. “I’ll do that now. Why don’t you get out the wine?”

He returned a few minutes later and Madison had out wine, and the chocolate they purchased that day. Jefferson joined him on the bed and took his glass.

Madison snuggled into him. “What’s your dream house?”

Jefferson thought for a moment. “I’d love to have a big, old farmhouse with a huge front porch and a hidden back staircase and all the random oddities of old homes. Big windows that look out over a few acres of land with lots of big trees. Maybe a little red barn and a horse.”

“You want a horse?” Madison looked up at him. “I didn’t think you liked your riding lessons that much.”

“I dunno. I just like the idea of having some other pets. We could get you a mini horse.”

“Oh, I like that idea.” Madison stroked Jefferson’s chest. “More cats, too.”

“Of course. What about your dream house?”

“I like the idea of this old farmhouse,” he said. “White picket fence and a tree out front with a swing. There would have to be a big library inside. Our bedroom, a room for the girls, and one for my toys. You would need an office, too, so you can work from home. A big dining room for when our families come over.” He closed his eyes envisioning this perfect house. “Do you think we could ever have something like that?”

“Yeah, I do.” Jefferson sank down further in the bed and rested his cheek against Madison’s head. “This next year will be hard, but I’ll have a good job as soon as I’m finished with law school and pass the bar.”

Madison entwined his fingers with Jefferson’s and felt the gold band press against his slender fingers. “Anywhere with you would be my dream house.”

Jefferson held him tighter. He sipped his wine and reached for the chocolate.

Madison took the piece offered. “Like, how many cats am I allowed?”

“Six?” Jefferson suggested. “But I don’t want you coming home with four more cats in one day.”

“Okay. Right now Lily and Grace are enough.” He finished his chocolate. “It might be rewarding to adopt older cats like Mrs. Washington does with dogs.”

“That might be hard for you, though, Jem,” Jefferson reminded him. “I wouldn’t want you upset all the time because of sick cats. Younger cats need homes, too.”

“True.”

Jefferson finished his glass of wine. “What do you think about going to Virginia sometimes soon? We could stay at my relative’s farm.”

“You really do want a horse, don’t you?” Madison poked his stomach.

Jefferson tickled him in response. “You’ve never been south since you were a baby. Maybe Alex and John could go with us.”

“That could be fun.” Madison propped himself up and climbed on Jefferson. “Are we going to have sex tonight?”

“Maybe.” Jefferson grabbed more chocolate and slipped a piece in Madison’s mouth. “Can you refill my glass?”

Madison did so and while he was up, took out his contacts and wore his glasses before he forgot again. He crawled up Jefferson hoping for something but Jefferson stalled with more questions.

“Is there anywhere you want to travel?”

The night ticked away as they talked. They changed into pajamas at one point and talked some more.

Madison snuggled close to Jefferson well aware of his tactic yet not minding at all. Talking all night was its own form of love making and he cherished it just as much.

***

They missed breakfast again but Lydia gave them a container of donut holes when they stopped in the kitchen to get their picnic basket.

It was a half hour drive and they spent it singing along to the music on Madison’s phone. At the park, Jefferson transferred the food into a backpack and they set out along a nice path. Nothing strenuous that would give Madison difficulty breathing.

Trees in all their glorious reds and oranges towered above and sent an occasional leaf twirling down on their path. Madison made a game of seeing who could catch one and laughed when Jefferson caught the first one in his hair.

They climbed on logs and waded through crunchy leaves. They staged scenes for the stuffed animal Madison brought and took pictures. They took silly pictures of themselves and collected perfect leaves to take home and see if they could preserve.

Madison found a nice, flat rock to sit on for lunch. It was by far the best turkey sandwich either had eaten as they grinned at each other in the fresh, crisp air. Along with the sandwiches were fresh apples from the orchard behind the house and homemade brownies.

Jefferson leaned back on the rock and closed his eyes. “This is amazing, Jem.”

“It is,” Madison agreed. He bent down and brushed his lips against Jefferson’s.

Jefferson opened his eyes and pulled him on top. “None of that nonsense,” he teased and pressed his lips warm and sweet against his husband’s.

They stood and cleaned up the rock and continued their walk. They found a tree with branches just the right height for Jefferson to set Madison in and take pictures. They took more pictures of the stuffed animal and themselves.

Around four o’clock, they finished the loop and got in the car.

“Do you mind if I send some pics to our friends?” Madison asked.

“Go for it,” Jefferson said. He drove back while Madison reported the text replies from Angelica and Hamilton.

“Alex wants to know if he’s getting a friendship necklace, too,” Madison said.

“Ballsy of him to think he’s our friend,” Jefferson joked.

Madison rolled his eyes. “You’re so mean to each other.”

Back in their room, Jefferson showered before dinner while Madison went through the pictures he’d taken.

“What do you want me to wear tonight?” Jefferson asked as he came out with a towel around his waist.

“That, obviously,” Madison said.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “I’ll pick out my own clothes then.” He grabbed some clothes from his suitcase and dropped his towel, well aware that Madison would watch.

After dinner, they snuggled on the bed and checked the comments online from the pictures that had popped up from their wedding.

“What’s tomorrow’s plan?” asked Jefferson as he liked a picture of Angelica and Jane

“Apple picking,” Madison said and tossed aside his phone. “I’m thinking you’ll be good at that.”

“Because I’m tall?” Jefferson teased. He pulled Madison close and kissed him.

“Something like that.” Madison stared into his dark brown eyes and marveled at how much he could love one person and still find that love expanding.


	123. Chapter 123

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Honeymoon - part 3

They made it to breakfast on time the next morning. Afterward, Lydia gave them stacks of wooden buckets to fill with apples from the orchard behind the house.

“Pick the damaged ones, too,” she instructed. “We can cut out the bad parts and use what’s left for apple butter.”

Madison took the task of gathering the apples on the ground and from any low branches. Jefferson picked higher up and used a small ladder for the very tops of the trees.

They picked for several hours with breaks now and then to eat a fresh apple.

When they brought up the buckets to the house, the sweet scent of cider and cinnamon met their noses.

“Come, have a cup,” Lydia said. It was from the apples the other couple staying there had picked yesterday, she explained.

Jefferson and Madison sat at the small kitchen table and sipped the hot cider, perfect after being outside in the chilly morning air.

“You can take home as many buckets as you want,” Lydia said. “I’ll get you some fresh apple butter, too.”

“Can—can you show me how to make it?” Madison asked in a soft voice.

Lydia smiled. “I would be delighted. We’ll make an apple cake, too.”

Madison grinned at Jefferson.

He reached across the table and squeezed his husband’s hand. “A friend of ours has been teaching James to cook,” Jefferson told Lydia. “He’s getting pretty good. It’ll be nice for him to add more to his recipe collection.”

Lydia pinched Madison’s cheek. “Well, I can teach you all kinds of things. Ready to start?”

Madison nodded.

Lydia put Jefferson to work peeling apples for the apple butter while she and Madison worked on an apple cake.

While they worked, Jefferson told Lydia about the Washington’s.

“It’s always special when someone outside the family opens their hearts,” Lydia said. “They sound like good people.”

“The best,” Madison said. “I’ve known them since I was a baby.”

“What about your folks?” Lydia asked. “Do you both get along with them?”

“Yeah, mostly,” Jefferson said. “We’re both lucky to have supportive families. We each have a lot of siblings. We’ll probably move in with James’ parents for a bit while I finish law school.”

“A lawyer, huh?” Lydia smiled at him. “I would not have guessed that. You’re much too quiet.”

Jefferson chuckled.

“How long have you lived here?” Madison asked. He stirred the cake batter.

“Oh, my, let’s see…” Lydia thought for a moment. “Almost forty years, I believe. My husband—God rest his soul—and I bought this house as newlyweds and never felt the need to move. We raised up five children here. After he passed it was too quiet for me so I decided a bed and breakfast would keep me busy and fill this house with noise and love again.”

“It’s a beautiful house,” Jefferson said. “It’s our dream to have an old house with lots of character.”

“I don’t doubt that you will achieve it,” she said.

Madison poured the cake batter into a pan and stuck it in the oven. While that baked, he and Lydia began readying the apples Jefferson had peeled for apple butter.

“They’ll cook for a few hours,” Lydia said. “We’ll make some apple pies for dessert tonight in the meantime.”

Jefferson went to work peeling more apples.

Madison made the dough and managed to get himself covered in flour.

“Always a mess,” Jefferson teased and brushed flour off his nose. “You got more here—” he touched Madison’s cheek. “—and here—” Jefferson tickled his neck. “—and here.” He kissed his husband’s lips.

Madison nudged him away, giggling.

“It warms my heart to see a young couple having fun,” Lydia said as she sliced apples. “Many couples are too serious or frazzled. Keep having fun, dears, it’ll keep you happy.”

Jefferson and Madison exchanged a smile. It would be worth remembering since they knew the stress and frazzled parts of a relationship and how easily it could destroy the playfulness and love.

***

When they returned home—loaded down with apples and presents—Madison found Grandma Jefferson’s gift to him sitting on his dresser. In the busyness of leaving for the trip, he’d forgotten it from his suit pocket. Mrs. Madison had found it when she gathered laundry.

“Thomas?”

Jefferson looked up from his phone. “Yes?”

“How much does your grandma love you?” Madison stared at the check in his hand.

“A lot, I thought.” A crease ran across his brow. “Why?”

“I think she loves me more.”

He got off the bed and looked at the check. He chuckled. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Can we put it toward our house?” Madison asked.

Jefferson kissed him. “It’s your money, love.”

“I don’t know how much houses cost,” Madison admitted.

“That should easily cover all the closing costs, inspections, and fees, which will definitely help.”

Madison smiled. “Good. Cause I feel bad that I can’t earn anything to help you.”

“You help in a million other ways.” Jefferson lifted him up. “That’s why I married you.” He watched the blue eyes on him and was certain he’d never been happier.


	124. Chapter 124

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kindergarten

When Mrs. Washington told him he had a visitor on a Sunday, Hamilton wasn’t surprised this time. 

Bess stood with her mom in the entry and bounced up and down when she saw him. “My show and tell day is next Thursday,” she said. “My teacher says it’s okay. Can you come?”

Hamilton knelt on the floor in front of her. “I would love to.”

“Yes!” She threw her arms around his neck. “Everyone is going to love you!”

Hamilton stood, lifting Bess in his arms. “Is there anything you want me to talk about? I don’t want to let your classmates down.”

“You’re too amazing to let anyone down,” Bess said and touched his nose. “Talk about your dragon story or work or whatever. Everything you’ve done is so cool.”

“Huh.” Hamilton watched those large blue eyes on him. “I suppose.”

The stare grew more intense as Bess frowned. “You went to grown-up school and did speeches and won trophy’s and traveled and now you have a grown-up job and you’re the nicest person ever and you care about everyone and you love animals. You’re amazing.”

Hamilton blinked back the moisture gathering in his eyes. Children never lied he knew. “Thanks, Bess. I’ll make you very proud.”

Bess smiled.

Mrs. Madison, trying not to cry herself, handed Hamilton a piece of paper with the school’s address. “Show and tell is at nine-thirty,” she said and gave him instructions on where to park and enter the school. “Will it be a problem to get a morning off work?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Hamilton said. “If I have to take a vacation day that’s fine.” He smiled at Bess. “It would be well worth it.”

***

Hamilton asked his supervisor on Monday morning. 

“What for?” he asked.

“A very dear little girl wants me to be her show and tell,” Hamilton explained. “I don’t want to let her down.”

The supervisor chuckled. “That’s fine but I expect a picture, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Sure thing.”

 

Thursday morning, Hamilton dressed in his usual work clothes: slacks and a button-down shirt and headed for the private elementary school. He expected to be nervous and tried to remind himself how he’d have to talk in front of a crowd and would say something stupid. But his brain—for once—shut the doubt down.

He parked and found the correct door. 

The receptionist looked up. “Yes?”

“I’m here for Bess Madison’s show and tell.”

She smiled. “You must be Alexander.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She gave him directions to Bess’ classroom. “I’m sure I’ll hear all about how this goes. Bess’ class has talked of nothing else all week.”

Even that sudden pressure to live up to a classroom of five-year-olds didn’t make him nervous. He found the room and knocked.

Bess looked toward the door at once and waved. She sat in the front row, wiggling in her seat.

The teacher headed toward the door and let him. “Alexander?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We’ll be ready for you in just a few minutes.” 

Bess slipped out of her seat and hurried down the aisle to hug him. “You came!”

“Of course I did.” Hamilton squeezed her tight and let her return to her desk to finish a counting exercise. He adjusted his backpack and looked around the room while he waited and wished he could remember anything about his own Kindergarten experience on the island. He only remembered always going to school barefoot. He caught sight of the whiteboard and the announcement: _Bess’ Show-and-Tell: Alexander._

The teacher finished the lesson and stood before the group of attentive children. “Today we have a special guest. Bess brought her friend Alexander for show and tell. Let’s make him feel welcome.”

Bess jumped out of her chair and raced back to grab Hamilton’s hand.

He followed her to the front of the room as the children clapped.

Bess stood on her toes as she faced her classmates. “This is Al-ex-an-der,” she said slowly. “He’s the coolest person ever! He loves animals and writes dragon stories. He went to grown-up school and has a job. He’s an amazing friend and always has time for us children.” She beamed up at him. “Tell everyone about dragons.”

For the first time in years, Hamilton didn’t hesitate to speak before a crowd. With eighteen pairs of the most attentive eyes on him, he told them about the princes that went to dragon school and learned how to care for and hatch dragons. In their world, dragons had many purposes but only the princes could raise them. He opened his backpack and pulled out a few things. “This is Victor.” He held up a drawing. “A dear friend of mine who recently passed away drew it for me. He drew all my dragons because he knew how important they were to me.” From his backpack, he handed Bess a few of the toy dragons and let her pass them around.

“Any questions?” Bess asked.

Almost all the class raised their hands.

“We’ll start with the first row,” the teacher said.

Hamilton answered questions about everything: dragons, why he liked to write, about his pets, about his friends, his family. 

“I have a younger brother,” he said. “We were both adopted by an amazing family after being in foster care.” 

“We’re you scared?” asked a little girl.

“Yeah, I’ve been scared a lot,” said Hamilton. “I talk to people who can help and make me feel better. That helps me not feel so sad, too.”

Another girl spoke up, “My mom gets sad a lot.”

“It happens to the best people.” Hamilton watched the little girl. “Tell your mom how much you love her. Sometimes sad people forget that.”

The little girl bobbed her head. “I will.”

The teacher spoke up again. “Any more questions?” She glanced at the clock. Bess’ show and tell had already run twenty minutes over.

More hands shot up.

“How about you write those questions down,” she decided. “You can each write Alexander a note during writing time.” She turned to Hamilton. “We really appreciate you visiting. Bess talks about you constantly.”

Hamilton smiled. “I’m happy to be here.” He rested a hand on Bess’ head as she beamed at him. “Can I take a picture with you and Bess? My boss wanted proof.”

“Of course.”

Hamilton lifted Bess in his arms and took a selfie with her and the teacher. He took a picture of the whiteboard, too.

“Okay, class,” the teacher said. “Say thank you and goodbye to Alexander. Bess, you can walk him to the office.”

The classroom erupted into thank you’s and goodbyes. The children handed him back his dragons as he walked down the aisle.

Bess skipped alongside him as they headed to the office.

“Did I do okay?” he asked.

“Amazing!” She twirled under his arm. “Now everyone knows how cool you are.” She hugged him goodbye in the office and returned to her classroom.

“Will I be hearing all about this?” the receptionist asked.

“You will,” Hamilton said with a grin. “Probably for a month, at least.”

 

At work, his supervisor greeted him cheerily. “Picture?”

Hamilton showed him the two pictures.

He chuckled. “I didn’t know you could smile.” He patted Hamilton on the back. “Mr. Prevost and I want to meet with you tomorrow morning, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Yes, sir.” Hamilton headed to his desk where his colleagues asked to see the pictures, too. For the first time since he started working there, attention was on him. Suddenly he was interesting now that a Kindergartner found him important.  

The next morning, he met with his boss and supervisor. He had his hope on what the meeting was about and found it even better than expected. He was given a promotion and a raise. His pay was changed from hourly to salary and he was given the flexibility to choose his own hours. 

“I can tell you’re determined,” Mr. Prevost said. “When I met with you before, you were unsure of yourself and in the short amount of time you’ve been here, I’ve seen you grow confident. You need more of a challenge and I think this will give you that but not add to your stress level. You’re a good worker, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hamilton tried and failed to keep the grin off his face.

With the ability to work when he chose, Hamilton was quick to reach out to Bess’ Kindergarten teacher about volunteering in the classroom. She agreed at once since the children could talk of nothing else and asked her multiple times a day when he would visit again.

Friday morning became his favorite time. He helped the kids with their craft projects and monitored their morning play. He forever had one child hanging off him while another or two chattered away with stories and questions. Bess shared him without complaint since she knew she would get to walk him out and his special grin was reserved for her.

“Alex, look!” One of the boys shoved a drawing at him. “Dragon! It’s red like Victor and your hair.”

“That’s awesome,” praised Hamilton. “Let’s hang that on the art wall.” He lifted the boy up to hang the picture on the large bulletin board along the back wall above the kid’s cubbies.

As soon as he set the boy down, a little girl tugged at his pant leg. “I drew you.”

Hamilton grinned at the scribble that most prominently featured wild red hair. “Perfect likeness.” He helped her hang the picture.

“My turn.” Bess handed him a booklet of papers taped together. “But you get to take it home.”

Hamilton turned the pages carefully. From what he could decipher from the childish spelling and the scribbles that smelled amazing, it was a story of his show and tell debut. “Wow, Bess.” He looked at the little girl staring up at him. “Thank you. I’ll treasure this forever.”

Bess wrapped her arms around his legs. “I love you, Lecks.”

“Bess, don’t make me cry.” Hamilton lifted her in his arms as his eyes shimmered. “I love you, too. You’re the most amazing little girl I’ve ever known.”

Bess buried her face against his neck. “Now you made me cry!” she complained and reached a hand out blindly until she found his nose.

Hamilton smiled, cherishing how Bess and the other kids loved so much the things he’d always hated most about himself. It made him not hate those things anymore.


	125. Chapter 125

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Farmhouse

On Saturday, Jefferson dropped Madison off at the animal shelter for him to volunteer for the morning. It got Madison out of the house once a week and gave Jefferson a few hours to himself to hit the gym, run errands, or call Jane and Angelica.

Katie greeted Madison as he came inside. That had been his deciding factor on which day to volunteer. Katie understood him and he didn’t want to deal with a different employee. “The cats are all yelling for breakfast,” she said and handed him the key to unlock the cages.

“I can hear them,” Madison said as he listened to the hungry yowls from the cat adoption room. He headed into the room and got to work.

He counted the number of cats as he unlocked the cages and spread out paper bowls along the counter. Each bowl got a scoop of dry food and a spoonful of wet. Cats meowed and swiped at him as he put a dish in each cage. The room steadily grew quiet as the cats chowed down.

Next, he filled a bucket with warm soapy water and made his cleaning line up with the big garbage can, bucket of litter, and the water and towels. 

Madison opened the first top cage and lifted out the brown tabby. From the bottom cage, he let out a gray cat. He let out the two cats in the next cages as well. It gave the cats more time to exercise and kept the energetic felines from swiping him. While the cats stretched and moseyed about, he pulled out the bed and litter pan from the first cage, tossed the old paper food dish and freshened the water. Litter dumped, he refilled it with another scoop of absorbent wood pellets. He swept the cage out with a brush and dustpan and wiped the cage down with a wet cloth. Once dried, he placed everything back inside.

He did the same for the next three cages and put the cats back. He let out another four and continued the routine.

He talked to the cats as he worked and always stopped to give them pets. He could only sigh when he came upon a cage of a young cat who had tipped his litter box over and spilled his water bowl. The wood pellets had soaked up the water and covered the cage in sawdust. 

“Good job,” Madison told the cat and let the orange tabby jump down. He went in with the dustpan and scooped out the mess.

In another cage, a black cat curled tight in the corner and resisted Madison’s gentle nudges to vacate. 

“You can stay,” Madison assured her softly and moved slowly to clean everything out. He checked the cat’s cage card. Her name was Vanity and she’d been at the shelter for almost six months. “Poor girl.” He gave her a gentle stroke. “You’re so shy and scared.”

Two and a half hours later, the room was clean. As Madison swept the floor, Katie poked her head in. “Good job, James!”

Madison smiled.

“I’ll take the trash out for you,” she said since Madison had let her know when he first started volunteering that he couldn’t lift anything heavy.

Madison dumped the dustpan. “Thanks.”

With a half hour left before Jefferson would pick him up, Madison returned to Vanity’s cage and talked to her.

“I’ve been worried about that cat,” Katie admitted as she returned the empty trash can. “She’s depressed.” She watched the black cat with white toes move a little closer to Madison’s hand. “She seems to like you.”

“Does she like other cats?” Madison asked.

“I’m not really sure. She mostly hides.”

“Poor thing.” Madison watched the cat turn around to face the corner. “Do you think Lily and Grace would be too much for her? Our house is quiet otherwise.”

“Better talk to your husband first,” Katie suggested. She glanced out the window facing the parking lot. “Looks like he’s here now. I’ll let him in.” She left the adoptable cat room and let Jefferson in the side door. “Just a heads up,” Katie told him, “James found a cat.”

“Great,” Jefferson said and shook his head. He went into the cat room and joined his husband at the cage. “Remember that I told you that you couldn’t bring home every cat.”

Madison looked at him. “You said we could have six. We only have two.”

“Yes, but we live in a studio apartment,” Jefferson reminded him and brushed Madison’s long hair back.

“Look at the cat, T.” Madison moved out of the way. “She’s depressed and scared.”

Jefferson studied the long-haired cat curled up in the corner of her small cage. Her long whispers were mostly white. He met his husband’s blue eyes intent on him and then at Katie hovering near the door. “Can we foster her to make sure Lily and Grace do okay?”

“Of course,” Katie said. “We’d do anything at this point to help Vanity. Let me get the paperwork.”

Madison wrapped his arms tight around Jefferson. “Thank you.”

“Just be aware that it might not work out,” Jefferson said and stroked his cheek.

“I understand.”

Katie returned with a clipboard and a box. “We’re about to open so I have to stay up front,” she said. “You can leave the clipboard on the front counter and I’ll get it finished later. Here’s a carrier for her.”

Jefferson took the cardboard box while Madison initialed and signed the paperwork.

Finished, he gently scooped Vanity out of her safe spot. She clung to her blanket and Madison made sure it went in the box with her. “Good girl, Vanity,” he soothed. “Everything’s okay.”

Jefferson secured the top flaps and lifted up the box. He pinched Madison’s nose. “You’re spoiled, you know that?”

Madison grinned. “I know.”

Vanity remained silent on the drive home. In the apartment, Lily and Grace trotted over as the door opened but both froze at the new scent. At once, Grace ran under the bed.

Madison carried the box into the bathroom where it would be less overwhelming for Vanity to stay as she grew comfortable. He opened the top flaps but the small cat stayed tucked inside.

“It’ll take a few days,” Madison told Jefferson.

“Just as long as there are no cat fights,” Jefferson said.

Vanity stayed in her box that night and ventured out to hide under the bed the next day. Grace wasn’t pleased to have her usual spot occupied and retreated to the top of the dresser and glared at everyone.

But two days later, when Madison fed the cats breakfast, Vanity joined the Persians and the three cats chowed down together. Madison excitedly snapped a picture and sent it to Jefferson and Katie.

Next Saturday, when Jefferson picked up Madison, they signed the paperwork to adopt Vanity. 

As they left, Jefferson turned toward the Estates instead of downtown.

“Where’re we going?” Madison asked.

“I want to show you something.”

He drove past the ritzy neighborhood where they’d grown up and down the quiet two-lane highway past several farms. He turned off the highway and drove a few more miles and turned onto a dirt driveway past a for sale sign. 

Jefferson turned off the truck and asked his husband, “What do you think?”

“We can’t afford it,” Madison said at once. He stared at the two-story farmhouse with a wide covered front porch.

“Your dad knows the realtor,” Jefferson said. “She says it’s going into foreclosure soon and the price will drop almost in half. I’m almost finished with law school and your dad has offered me a top position in his firm. We can afford this, Jemmy. Plus—” He took Madison’s hand, “—we have three kids now. We need more space. It’s three bedrooms upstairs and an office downstairs. It’s on four acres and there’s a big tree in the back for your swing. It needs a little paint—”

“Yes,” Madison said. “Let’s do this, T.”

Jefferson kissed him and left him breathless. “I’ll call the realtor.”

***

“I didn’t think you had this much stuff,” Hamilton panted as he hauled what felt like the hundredth box upstairs.

“It’s all Jemmy’s,” Jefferson replied. He pointed to the front bedroom that Madison had chosen for his playroom. 

A month after seeing the house, the Jefferson’s closed on their already beloved farmhouse. Once they signed the papers, Washington gathered up the boys to help paint a few of the rooms and he fixed some loose and broken rails on the porch. Madison picked out bright gingham fabric and Mrs. Washington sewed up curtains for the kitchen and family room. Madison’s siblings pulled weeds around the house while their mom tidied up the flowerbeds. Mr. Madison had already done his part helping them through the paperwork, and oversaw the restoration and drank beer.

Once the house was cleaned up, everyone gathered again to move in the boys.

“I’m really happy for you, T.” Hamilton stretched his back. “This place is perfect for you and Jem and the cats.”

“Thanks.” Jefferson looked out the front window and spotted Madison and Washington putting together the swing that would hang from the huge oak tree. “I feel really content.”

Hamilton leaned against him. “You deserve that.”


	126. Chapter 126

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Texas

_Do you want to get lunch sometime this week?_

Hamilton read the message from Burr and sent back a yes. A time and place were soon agreed upon and they met on Saturday.

“How’re things going?” Hamilton asked as they browsed the menu of a local sandwich shop.

“Great,” Burr said. “So...” He set down the menu and Hamilton looked up. “Theo and I are going to be moving soon.”

Hamilton frowned. “Where?”

“Austin, Texas.”

Hamilton glanced down. “Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. It was silly to be so sad when he and Burr were hardly friends anymore. But all his life he’d only known people or himself to leave. Foster parents and siblings didn’t stay. He was never in the same school long enough to have friends. He’d grown accustomed to his college buddies sticking around. He didn’t want to lose any of them, even when he didn’t see them often.

“Yeah.” Burr picked back up his menu. “I wanted you to know first before Angelica gossiped to Thomas and you heard it through the grapevine from him.”

“I appreciate that,” Hamilton mumbled. “When do you leave?”

“Like a month.” He sucked in his bottom lip. “Theo’s selling the firm to her ex-husband so we just have to get that all done and find a place in Austin. Once we’re living there we’ll get a place for a new firm.”

“Wow.” Hamilton swallowed and couldn’t get out any more words. But he didn’t know what to say either. Once upon a time, he expected himself to be the one moving away and working at a big firm and having the fancy law career. He felt bad realizing he’d never expected Burr to be the one to amount to something.

They ordered and sat in silence for several minutes.

“How are things going for you?” Burr asked.

“Okay.” Hamilton busied himself with his drink. Maybe it was better that Burr did leave since his life was an exciting success versus Hamilton’s slow-paced existence. “Um, James’ little sister, Bess, brought me for her show and tell. I volunteer with her class now.”

“That’s awesome!” Burr grinned. “That’s perfect for you, you love kids.”

Hamilton found a small smile.

“Have you ever thought about teaching?” Burr chewed on his straw. “You could get a teaching certificate pretty easily, I’m sure, with the degree you have.”

“I never thought much about it,” Hamilton admitted and his mind suddenly burst into gear. He hadn’t been anxious at all talking to Bess’ class. An older grade would probably stress him out more, but Kindergarten or first grade? He could create stories for the class and use dragons and other creatures in his lessons. Washington was bound to have tons of knowledge on how to get going with a teaching career. As a teacher, he’d have a similar schedule to the kids if he and Laurens fostered.

“Your gears are turning,” Burr said with a chuckle. “I can see it in your face. Go for it, Alex.” He reached over and squeezed his hand. “I believe teaching is your calling.”

“I will look into it,” Hamilton said and gave a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Burr’s eyes softened. “You’ve done a million things for me. I’m glad I could give you one idea in return.”

Hamilton stared at their hands still touching. That was another reason why it was probably a good thing for Burr to move. The way things had gone between them—always intense, never quite satisfying—he wasn’t sure if he’d really ever gotten over Burr. He slipped his hand away. “Thomas heard from Angelica that Theo’s baby crazy.”

“Only as baby crazy as you,” Burr teased. “The two of you together would already have a dozen kids.”

Hamilton chuckled. “Probably. Are you going to?”

“Eventually.” He made a scared face. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

“Neither does John.”

“Oh, God, him and I would have killed a baby together.”

Hamilton gave a strained chuckle. “Very true.” He swallowed. “You never thought you might marry John, did you?”

“No, I suppose not.” Burr met Hamilton’s eyes. “I’m glad he’s been there for you. I’m sorry I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay, Aaron.” Hamilton’s hand strayed back toward his. “I understood.” _At least the second time._ Time had at least given him the ability to forgive their freshman year of college and he had understood why Burr couldn’t be there after his suicide attempt. If their positions had been reversed, he knew it would have been hard for him to deal with Burr going through that.

Food arrived and the uncomfortable conversation put aside.

“Speaking of babies,” Burr said after taking a few bites. “How is Lafayette’s? I’m imagining your parents are in love?”

Hamilton smiled. “Very much. Henriette is good. So cute.” He pulled out his phone and showed Burr a few pictures.

“Cute.” Burr handed the phone back. “She doesn’t look like Laf at all.”

“A blessing, really.”

Burr rolled his eyes.

They didn’t linger long after eating. Meal paid for, the boys headed outside.

“Well...” Burr shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not sure when I’ll see you again. I’ll try to post more on social media so you know I’m okay.”

Hamilton nodded. He stepped closer and Burr removed his hands to hug him. They lingered in each other’s embrace, Hamilton fighting tears and Burr wondering what had really happened between them.

“Take care,” Burr whispered in a thick voice.

Hamilton nodded again and hurried into his truck. He made it about halfway home before the tears spilled free. It would probably be the last time he saw Burr, he figured. Burr had no real reason to return to the city and Hamilton little reason to fly to Austin. In many ways, it was probably for the best but Hamilton knew Burr moving put an end to that era of college and starting out. It meant they were adults now.

Burr returned to his apartment with a heavy heart. He, too, saw this as an end of one portion of his life. He’d be putting aside everything and everyone he knew. However, a fresh start had always been something he hoped for.

Angelica turned off the vacuum when she saw the broken look on his face. “Didn’t you have lunch with Alex? What happened?”

“Theo and I moving to Texas,” he said as his lip trembled. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Dang.” Angelica swallowed as her eyes grew damp. At least he hadn’t done or said something stupid to Hamilton, she thought in attempt to push away the sadness. “When?”

“In about a month.” He crossed the few steps between them and wrapped his arms around her. “You and Jane can move with us, right?”

Angelica held him tight. “Honestly, I’ll talk to her.”

Burr met her eyes. “Good.” He sniffled and they couldn’t let go of each other.

***

Three weeks later, the paperwork was finished on selling the firm. The couple had a small going-away party with Angelica, Jane, Jefferson, and Madison. Hamilton had been invited but chose not to join. After that Theodosia and Burr packed up all the stuff Theodosia had in storage, everything in her condo, and lastly, the few boxes of stuff Burr owned. A moving company drove the van and towed Theodosia’s car, while the couple and Hairy Harry flew. They had a small apartment to start with while they found a place for the firm and got it established.


	127. Chapter 127

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurens is tolerable

A few days later, Hamilton sat at the kitchen table with his dad and boyfriend. “Am I crazy to pursue this?”

“Not if it’s your dream,” Washington said. “I think you would make an amazing Kindergarten teacher. But you need to make sure it’s the right time.”

Hamilton nodded and turned to Laurens. “Thoughts?”

“I support you a hundred percent, Hammy.” Laurens rested a hand over his boyfriend’s. “You already have your bachelor degree so it’s just a matter of getting certified.”

“I don’t hate my current job, though,” Hamilton continued. “And I’m making good money. But I want to do more.”

“Perhaps fostering will fill that void,” Washington suggested. “There is no rush if you’re happy where you currently are.”

“I don’t know if I’m happy enough,” Hamilton admitted. “I hate making decisions.” He rubbed his forehead.

“Talk to Mr. Prevost,” Washington said. “Maybe you can reach a compromise with him to volunteer more in Bess’ classroom and work more of your hours in the evening.”

It was a start and Hamilton agreed.

 

“I heard you’d been volunteering,” Mr. Prevost said after Hamilton explained the situation. “However, I do have an offer for you.”

Hamilton fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt.

“Since I’ve acquired my ex-wife’s firm, I need more hands on deck. You are a hard worker, Mr. Hamilton. I could really use you as I get everything organized. I’ll give you a significant raise but it may require a few extra hours from you but I won’t cut into your Friday mornings.”

Hamilton nodded slowly.

As an added incentive, Mr. Prevost wrote down some numbers and passed the paper to Hamilton. “What I estimate your monthly salary would be.”

Hamilton’s mouth opened.

“Think about it.”

 

At home, Hamilton gathered Washington and Laurens back together. “I don’t think I can refuse but I don’t want to miss out on doing something I’m more passionate about.” He chewed on his thumbnail.

“There will always be kids in Kindergarten,” Laurens reminded him. “If you continue at the firm for another year with this salary, we’d be able to get ahead and have a place of our own.” He squeezed Hamilton’s knee under the table. “If you can do this, I can work harder toward becoming a partner or manager at the restaurant. Then you can pursue your dream and we’ll be okay financially.”

“It’s only an extra year or so,” Washington said. “You’re young, Alexander, a little more life experience could help you manage your class better.”

“But I know what I want to do.” Hamilton chewed on his lip. “Why am I waiting?”

Washington touched his son’s cheek. “Life has a way of giving you what you need, even if you don’t think it’s right. This is an amazing job offer. You’re good at the work and it doesn’t strain you more than you can handle. Take Mr. Prevost’s offer. Use it to give yours and John’s dreams a stronger foundation.”

“I think Dad’s right,” Laurens said. “This will give us a better start.”

Hamilton took a deep breath. “I’ll accept his offer.”

***

With his sons both busy with work and his retirement nearing, Washington spent more time at home and helped his wife babysit Henriette.

“She’s growing so fast,” he marveled as he fed the baby a mid-morning bottle.

Mrs. Washington watched his cradle their granddaughter. She might have been growing fast but she still looked minuscule in her grandfather’s arms. “Babies are something to behold.” She stroked her husband’s head as she stood behind his recliner. “But after Todd, I can say I do prefer them going home to their parents after a few hours.”

Washington chuckled. “Me, too, my dear.”

When Henriette finished the bottle, Washington handed her over to his wife to burp and put down for her nap. He had to be at the college for two hours but returned not long after she woke.

With his random work schedule, Laurens arrived home in the afternoon and was not at all surprised to find Washington cooing over the baby.

“Any chance I could hold her, sir?” he asked. “I want to get more comfortable around babies.”

“Of course, John.” Washington handed him the wiggly infant.

Laurens looked at Henriette as she started to cry, then at Washington. “What do I do?”

“Attempt to calm her down,” Washington said.

Sitting on the couch, Laurens rocked her and petted her but Henriette continued to fuss and flail her tiny fists.

Laurens looked back at Washington. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Get creative,” Washington said. “What did you do with your younger siblings?”

It seemed like another life that he’d had siblings in but he somewhat remembered Coby and Isabelle as babies. He positioned Henriette on his legs and blew a raspberry on her belly.

Surprise stopped her wails and she stared at Laurens.

“I’m appalled by my behavior, too,” he told her. “But you were being unreasonable.”

Washington held back a chuckle as he half-paid attention while he browsed online from his iPad. He wasn’t surprised that Laurens didn’t know how to baby talk.

But a moment later, Henriette resumed fussing.

“You leave me no choice,” Laurens said and blew another raspberry.

The crying stopped and turned to a gurgle. Her mouth opened wide to show off all her gums.

“Sir, I think she’s smiling,” Laurens said in amazement.

Washington looked up. “Good job, John.”

When Adrienne picked up her daughter that evening, she was prepared as usual to pry the baby from her father-in-law. She was not prepared to find Henriette in Laurens’ arms and not screaming.

“This…this is a surprise, John.” Adrienne stared at him. She watched Henriette give a drooly smile to Laurens. “She seems to like you.”

“Don’t act so shocked,” Laurens said. He handed Henriette to her mother. “I’m not just a pretty face.”

Adrienne patted her daughter’s back. “Well, that was debatable to begin with.”

“Oh, come on!” Laurens complained. “Being pretty is the only thing I ever had going for me. Don’t take it away.”

Adrienne laughed. “You’re tolerable, John. We’ll see you later.”

Laurens opened the door for her and handed over Henriette’s diaper bag. “Thanks. Tell Laf I said hi.”

“I will.” Adrienne smiled at him. “You and I might need to team up if we’re going to survive this family.”

A smile spread across Laurens’ face. “You and I will make a good team.”


	128. Chapter 128

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to Celebrate

As spring hit its stride and everything seemed to fall into place, Laurens knew he had one big step he needed to take.

“May I talk to you, sir?” Laurens asked as he walked into Washington’s office.

“Of course, my boy.” Washington pointed to the chair across from him and cleared away some of his clutter. “What’s on your mind?”

Laurens took a seat and chewed on his fingernails. “Um, like, obviously you know how much Alex means to me,” he mumbled.

Washington nodded as a smile crept up his lips.

“And I hope you think I’m not horrible for him,” he continued.

“I don’t,” Washington said.

Laurens kept his eyes down as he picked at his jeans. “Um, so, like, I was hoping to ask, um—” he sucked in a deep breath “—for your permission to marry your son.”

Washington let the smile spread. “John, look at me.”

Laurens looked up and he relaxed to see the happiness on the man’s face.

“Yes, you have my blessing to marry Alexander.”

A deep sigh escaped. “Thank you, sir. I know it’s hard for you to let Alex grow up and I hope I’ll always live up to your expectations as your son-in-law.”

“You will, John.” Washington watched the handsome freckled face. “If I have to trust Alexander with someone else, it would be you.”

Tears shimmered in Laurens’ eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

***

“Is it cold out?” Hamilton asked as he and Laurens got ready for their usual evening walk.

“For a normal person, no,” Laurens said.

Hamilton grabbed his jacket.

They headed out along their favorite route toward the local park. The sun was an hour from setting and cast a bright orange glow across the sky. A few birds chirped from the tall trees growing their new wardrobe of green. 

As they neared a small pound, Hamilton stopped. “Hey, Jack?”

Laurens stared at the small cluster of trees ahead where he planned to propose. “Yeah?” He turned around to see Hamilton on one knee.

“John Laurens, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

Laurens’ eyes widened as his heart rate spiked. “Alex...” He struggled to catch his breath as a smile slipped across his face. “Yes, Alexander.”

Hamilton stood and slipped the ring on his fiancé’s finger. He kissed Laurens and melted into his warm security. “I love you.”

“I love you more than anything in this world,” Laurens whispered. “You want a summer wedding, right? Is this summer too soon?”

Hamilton drew back to meet his eyes. “It’s almost too far away.”

“June is a month away,” reminded Laurens. “Almost two if you want to wait for the official st—”

“June first,” Hamilton said and kissed him again. “On the beach.” Another kiss. “Family and friends.”

“Perfect.”

They held hands as they continued their walk and lingered on the porch an extra moment in each other’s arms. 

Washington, though, was less patient and opened the front door.

“Alexander proposed!”

“We’re engaged!” They exclaimed at the same time.

Washington could only laugh. “I’m happy for you, boys.” He turned into the house. “Martha, come here!”

Mrs. Washington came out of the kitchen followed the dogs. “Yes?”

“We’re getting married June first,” Hamilton said and threw his arms around his mom.

“Oh, Alex!” She squeezed him tight while the dogs began barking.

“June first, huh?” Washington said as he closed the front door once everyone made it inside. “That’s a lot to plan.”

“We just want a small wedding on the beach,” Laurens said.

“Probably have the reception here,” Hamilton added. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Washington said. He stroked his son’s cheek. “My baby’s getting married.”

“I’m older than Lafayette,” Hamilton groaned but wrapped his arms around his dad and snuggled into him. 

“I’m very happy for you,” Washington murmured. “You and John are a good pair.”

 

Wedding preparations took over the next week as the couple figured out if they needed a permit to have a beach wedding (they would), decided what to wear, created invitations, and asked Jefferson and Lafayette to be their best men.

Lafayette accepted readily but Jefferson just stared at Hamilton. “There’s no way I can be your best friend,” he said shaking his head. “You’re bullshitting me.”

“Thomas,” Hamilton whined. “You know it’s true. It’s time you accepted your fate.”

Jefferson gave a dramatic sigh. “If it’ll make you happy, Alexander. I accept.”

“Yes!” Hamilton slammed himself against Jefferson and wrapped his arms around his friend.

***

To celebrate the engagement, the Washington’s took their boys and significant others out to dinner. Mulligan agreed to watch Henriette with the promise of a doggy bag when the du Montier’s returned.

“Anything we want, right?” Hamilton asked as he browsed the menu.

“When have I ever _not_ let you have anything you wanted?” Washington questioned in return.

Hamilton grinned. “True. I’m having a steak then.”

“Pick out a bottle of wine.” Washington handed him the drink menu.

Hamilton passed it on to Lafayette since he still knew nothing about wine. Plus it gave him a chance to lean close to his brother and whisper, “Make your announcement.”

Lafayette’s pupils dilated. “I’m scared,” he whispered back.

Hamilton rolled his eyes and reached behind his brother and tapped Adrienne’s shoulder.

She nodded and cleared her throat. “Laffy and I have some good news.”

The Washington’s and Laurens looked up from their menus.

“We’re pregnant,” Adrienne said.

“Again,” added Lafayette.

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Washington murmured while a grin spread across Washington’s face.

Hamilton punched his brother. “Yes!” Lafayette had told him a few days ago after he’d learned of Hamilton’s engagement and fretted when to announce since he didn’t want to steal his brother’s thunder.

“I don’t want to give Dad, like, an aneurysm,” Lafayette had said.

“This is good news.” Hamilton had insisted the couple make the reveal at his engagement dinner.

“Are you… prepared for this?” Mrs. Washington asked her son and daughter-in-law.

“Well, Henriette is almost one,” Adrienne said. “We’re stable financially. I think we got this.” She squeezed her husband’s hand.

“You know condoms are a thing, right, Laf?” Laurens said with a smirk.

Lafayette rolled his eyes. “Grow up, John.” He looked at his brother. “I’m sorry you’re marrying him, little lion.”

“Me, too,” Hamilton said.

“This is amazing,” blurted Washington as he found his voice. “Another grandchild and a new son-in-law. I couldn’t be more proud.” He smiled at his family. “All of you are amazing young people.”

“Because of you,” Hamilton said. He touched his dad’s arm and lowered his voice so only Washington could hear. “Everything I achieved is because you believed in me. It’s true that one person can make a difference.”

“Thank you, Alexander.” He kissed his son’s head and wiped at his eyes.

Across the table, Adrienne told Mrs. Washington, “I’m sorry you have to make another baby blanket so soon.”

A smile crinkled up Mrs. Washington’s face. “Don’t worry, dear, I already started one.” She stretched out her arm and took her daughter-in-law’s hand.

Lafayette looked at his wife and mom bonding, then his dad and brother leaned in toward each other. He found Laurens’ stare intent upon him. “Fine.” He got up from his chair and walked around the table. He wrapped his arms around his future brother-in-law. “We love you, too.”

Tears sprung in Laurens’ eyes as he realized just how much he’d always longed for a family that loved him.

Hamilton saw the shimmer in his fiancé’s eyes. “It’s weird to be loved, isn’t it?”

Laurens nodded.

“Enough tears,” Washington declared and dabbed at his eyes with his cloth napkin. “Time to celebrate.”


	129. Chapter 129

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wedding

“Why does it have to be cloudy?” Hamilton moaned as he stared out the window in his parent’s bedroom. “That seems like a bad omen.”

“The sun will shine by this afternoon,” Washington assured. He joined his son at the window and squeezed his shoulders. “There will be no bad omens for your wedding day, I promise.”

Hamilton leaned back against him. “Good because this is like the one decision I’ve ever made that didn’t scare the crap out of me or was difficult.”

A smile tugged at Washington’s lips. “I’m glad, son.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes and watched the clouds scuttle across the sky. 

Washington hugged his son for a moment. “Go shower and see if you can tame your hair. I swear it came in with more cowlicks than before.” He rubbed a hand against Hamilton’s messy red hair.

“Dragon swirls,” Hamilton said. He ducked away from his dad’s hand. 

Washington chuckled. “I like that.” After Hamilton left the bedroom, he resumed watching out the window. The sun had to shine, he thought. Everything had to be perfect for his son’s wedding.

After showering, Hamilton managed to get most of his hair to go in of the same direction. He dressed in beige linen pants and rolled up the hem since he planned to go barefoot. His shirt was light blue. He and Laurens wanted this causal with no ties or suit jackets.

He jumped at a knock on the bathroom door and opened it to find his best man. He’d let Jefferson choose whatever he wanted and he’d picked his usual gray and lavender color scheme.

“You look nice, Alexander.” Jefferson smoothed down the shirt collar.

Hamilton took a deep breath. “I’m trying not to freak out.”

“Doubts?” Jefferson asked.

“No, just a fear that something will go wrong.”

Jefferson hugged him. “Everything will be perfect, I promise.”

“I have another problem,” Hamilton mumbled. He drew back from Jefferson and rolled up his left sleeve. “How do I hide this?”

Jefferson couldn’t stop the wince at the sight of Hamilton’s scar that would forever remain a glaring mark across his wrist.

“It’s going to be hot,” Hamilton continued. “I want to have my sleeves rolled up.”

“Do you have a watch?” Jefferson asked and met his friend’s eyes.

“Not one nice enough.” He pushed his sleeve back down. “I suppose we won’t be on the beach for that long.” He buttoned the cuff and squared his shoulders. “I’m ready.”

Jefferson patted him on the back. “I’m proud of you, bud.”

As they headed downstairs, Washington called out to Hamilton. “I have something you for, Alex.”

Hamilton took the small box and opened it. He chuckled. “What, were you eavesdropping on T and me? I just told him I didn’t have a nice watch to wear.”

“Apparently I just know you too well,” Washington replied and tapped his son on the nose. “I’m glad it’s something you need.”

“Thank you.” Hamilton handed him the box while he unbuttoned his sleeves and Jefferson helped him roll them neatly up his forearms. The watch was silver, oyster-bracelet style and fit perfectly when he secured the clasp. “You do know me too well,” he told his dad. “Did you measure my wrist when I was asleep?

“I measured your bracelet,” Washington said. “Your wrist is tiny.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes.

They headed downstairs to check on preparations for the reception. As long as the weather was nice, everything would be set up outside. Right now, the tables and chairs waited in the garage. Frank, Ambrose, and Nelly agreed to leave the wedding a little early and set things up.

Potato and Noodle ran over to Hamilton and yapped at him.

“Good girls!” he cooed. “You look so pretty!” Even though they’d stay upstairs during the party, both had been bathed the night before and looked sleek and shiny.

Washington checked the time. “We should leave soon. I’ll call Laf and make sure they’re not running behind with the baby.”

Laurens had gone over to Lafayette’s house earlier to get ready with his best man.

Hamilton stood still in the middle of the room not sure what to do with himself. He stared at the kitchen table covered with centerpieces to put out later. Since they were getting married on the beach, a beach theme had seemed appropriate and each dining table would have a fishbowl filled with sand, seashells, and a turtle. Little beach pails filled with candy would go on the tables, too. Madison had come up with the ideas.

“Lafayette said they’re good to go in ten minutes,” Washington announced. “Where’s Mom?” He headed out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

Jefferson squeezed his friend’s shoulders. “All good, Alexander?”

“I’m, like, in shock,” Hamilton admitted. “I’m getting married. Like, how is that even possible?” He shook his head. “I remember when I first met John. Damn, we seemed so young.” He leaned against Jefferson and closed his eyes. He could easily picture himself and Laurens making out on the couch in the front room shortly after meeting each other. It made him smile but right on the nice memory’s tail was the reminder of had horribly wrong parties could go. He shuddered at the thought of someone ruining his important day. “I’m a little overwhelmed.”

“I understand.” Jefferson rubbed his back. “John will be by your side. So will your dad and me. Nothing is going to hurt you today. If a shark hurls itself out of the water at you, I will punch it, okay?

Hamilton grinned. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I won’t let you down.”

Upstairs, Washington opened the door to the master bedroom. “Martha, my dear, are you ready?”

Mrs. Washington remained seated at her vanity, damp tissue clutched in her hands.

“What’s wrong?” Washington knelt next to his wife.

“I think they’re happy tears,” she said. “I started thinking about Alex and everything we’ve gone through with him. He has a good job and now he’s getting married. I can’t believe he’s the same boy as that defiant, little monster we brought home, what, six years ago?

“Seems like a lot longer,” Washington said. He took his wife’s hands. “We’re so blessed. We have each other and two amazing boys. How did we get so lucky?”

Mrs. Washington kissed him. “Because we never gave up.” She dried her eyes and stood. “I’m ready now.”

Washington drove them to the beach. The Madison’s had agreed to help with a lot of the prep work and were busy setting out the white folding chairs facing the ocean and arch.

Hamilton dug his toes into the warm sand and a pleasant satisfaction filled him. The sun peeked through the clouds and only a faint, cooling breeze blew. He walked beyond the little spot on the beach where he’d soon be married and stared at the crashing waves.

A warm hand slipped into his. “Ready?” Madison asked. He wore a navy skirt with a white and navy striped cardigan.

“Yeah.”

They watched the ocean in silence until a little voice shouted, “Lecks!”

Hamilton spotted the little girl trying to run toward him in the sand. He closed the distance between them and scooped Bess in his arms before she could fall and dirty her blue gingham sundress.

“Hi!”

A grin spread across Hamilton’s face. “Ready to be my flower girl?”

“Yes!” Bess touched his nose.

Hamilton set her down near the chairs and spotted his fiancé talking to Lafayette. Laurens wore white shorts and a pink short-sleeve button-down shirt. His feet were bare and his curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. Lafayette wore a mint green shirt. While Hamilton and Laurens hadn’t worried about what their groomsmen should wear, Lafayette and Jefferson had discussed it with Madison and decided wearing softer colored shirt and light pants to coordinate with what they knew he grooms would wear would look nice.

A grin spread across Laurens’ face as he looked up and spotted his almost-husband.

Hamilton headed toward him and grabbed a bag from behind a nearby chair. “I have something for you.” He pulled out a box with a yellow flower. “Will you wear it?”

“For sure,” Laurens said. He let Hamilton tuck it into his hair behind his ear.

“It’s a horseshoe geranium.” Hamilton ran a finger down Laurens’ chest. He leaned in closer and whispered. “Google is later.”

Laurens grinned.

Their best men shooed them apart as guests arrived. Hamilton kept an eye on the increasing crowd with the faint—but constant—unease than an unwelcome guest would arrive. Besides the entire Madison family, there were a few Jefferson’s, Laurens’ siblings, aunt, and her boyfriend. Bree waved to Hamilton as she sat down next to Angelica. Mulligan bounced a fretting Henriette in his arms while Adrienne searched through the diaper bag for something that might soothe the baby. It was a small crowd but of the most important people to the grooms.

“Alexander.” Washington caught his attention and beckoned him over. “Ready?”

Hamilton nodded.

Lafayette and Jefferson walked down the aisle first and took their spots on either side of the gold wire arch.

Reuben as the ring bearer went next followed by Bess throwing petal wildly through the air.

Washington slipped one arm through Hamilton’s and the other through his wife’s. Laurens took his spot on Mrs. Washington’s other side. Having the Washington’s walk them both down the aisle had been the only way that felt right.

The family made their way up the aisle and let go.

Hamilton met his dad’s shimmering eyes with his own moist ones. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” Washington squeezed his hand and stepped away.

Facing Laurens, Hamilton could only hear the blood rushing in his ears. Laurens soft, gentle hands reached for his and their fingers intertwined as the minister spoke.

Having rehearsed his vows enough, Hamilton didn’t hesitate when it was his turn to speak. While he didn’t gesture as he’d always done during debate, the clear, elegant speech he’d been known for in college poured free as he stared into Laurens’ eyes. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. He’d survived a poverty-stricken childhood and years of foster care that had often been abusive. He’d endure crippling depression and anxiety. Through all that, he graduated college and found a good job—not his forever career but that would come soon. He gained a family and amazing friends. He found the person who loved him despite all of his flaws, scars, and demons. He found his purpose and hope. He’d survived.

“Do you, Alexander Washington Hamilton, take John Laurens to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Heart pounding faster and a giddy grin tugging at his lips, Hamilton said, “I do.”

As soon as Laurens affirmed his agreement and the ring was on his finger, the two kissed, ignoring the minister still trying to talk.

After a minute, the best men yanked the grooms apart.

“Chill for two seconds,” Jefferson murmured as the minister announced the new couple.

As soon as they walked back down the aisle, Hamilton and Laurens resumed making out.

“Save it for the honeymoon.” Washington pulled them apart. “Time for pictures.”

Numerous pictures were taken but everyone agreed that the best picture was the candid shot of Hamilton and Bess captured by Adrienne as the two grinned at each other before smiling more officially for the picture.


	130. Chapter 130

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never Ever Change

The tables were all set up perfectly in the Washington’s yard near the garage. A few tables were set up in there, too, out of the hot sun. It was there Hamilton joined Madison for a drink as he took a moment to relax.

“I’m so happy for you, Alex,” Madison gushed. He nibbled on a Swedish fish from the candy cups.

“I’m still in shock,” Hamilton replied and stared at the gold band on his finger. “I’m fucking married, Jemmy.”

Madison laughed. “Where’re you going on your honeymoon?”

“Niagara Falls.” He helped himself to some candy, too. “We didn’t really have anywhere specific we wanted to go and that’s where Dad said he and Mom had gone so we figured, why not? Neither of us has ever been there.”

“Thomas has been once,” Madison said. “He said it was loud and breathtaking.”

“Hammy, time to eat!” Laurens shouted.

Hamilton stood. “Come on, little duck.”

Dinner was picnic fare: fried chicken, sandwiches, salads, and fruit. Hamilton loaded down his plate as a ravenous hunger descended upon him. After he attacked a piece of chicken, he asked Lafayette, “Are you going to announce the new baby?”

Lafayette winced. “People will think we have a fetish for announcing pregnancies at weddings.”

Hamilton grinned. “You still should.”

“It’s your day, little lion.” Lafayette kissed his cheek.

A little while after the food was eaten, Hamilton and Laurens cut the cake. It was three-tiered with the top and bottom layer vanilla and the middle chocolate all covered with whipped cream frosting and sugared seashells.

“Do you want me to be nice,” Laurens asked as they cut the first piece, “or can I shove this in your face?”

“Depends if you want to clean it off,” Hamilton said. A moment later, he had a small piece of cake gently shoved at his face and Laurens’ mouth on him.

Jefferson and Madison exchanged a unified headshake.

Dancing followed with the first one between Hamilton and Mrs. Washington and Laurens with his aunt. For the father/son dance, Washington took a turn with each of the boys.

“I know Alexander is a lot of work,” Washington said as he gripped Laurens’ hand. “But I’m certain of your capabilities. Otherwise, I would have said no.”

“I have no doubt that you would have.” Laurens rested his head on his father-in-law’s shoulder. “If you hadn’t fostered him, if you hadn’t brought me in as one of your boys, we’d never have met. You’re a hell of a matchmaker, Dad.”

Washington held him tight.

He danced with Hamilton next, although it was more him smothering his son in a long hug than anything else.

“I want you to remember two things, Alex,” Washington said. “I love you no matter what and if things for whatever reason happen to go sour between you and John, I will never hold that against you and you’re welcome back home.”

Hamilton nodded. “I won’t forget.”

The song ended and Laurens had to struggle to get his husband free of Washington’s grip.

“Dad, I’ll always be your baby,” Hamilton promised and Washington finally let go.

Dancing and drinking went on until after sunset. Giggling and falling over each other, Hamilton and Laurens made their way into the house and upstairs.

Now that they were married and could “officially” share the same space, they crashed in Lafayette’s old room where they’d started moving their stuff. It was a little bigger than the other two bedrooms plus it had an en-suite bathroom. Most importantly, though, it wasn’t across the hall from the master bedroom.

“We doing this tonight or…” Laurens trailed off as Hamilton kissed him.

“Get naked,” Hamilton said.

***

The next morning as Laurens picked up their scattered clothes, he found the corsage Hamilton had given him. He hadn’t had a chance to google the flower meaning and quickly did so now.

“Alexander!” he shouted. “You dick!”

Hamilton poked his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “What?”

Laurens held up the flower and his phone. “Stupidity? Really?”

A wide smile stretched across Hamilton’s face. “I hoped, maybe, you’d be too stupid to find—” He squealed and threw his toothbrush as Laurens ran at him and pinned him against the shower door.

“I still love you.” Laurens kissed his neck. “I’m going to make sure every inch of you feels that tonight.”

Hamilton’s legs weakened as he turned to mush in Laurens’ hands.

***

When the boys returned home from their honeymoon four days later, Washington was babysitting Henriette. She’d learned to stand and Washington was intent to see if he could get her to take her first steps.

“Dad!” Hamilton tore through the family room and kitchen and found him in the front room. “I’m back!”

“You were gone?” Washington teased as his son barreled into him. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!” Hamilton dropped on the couch and tickled Henriette under the chin. “I’d show you pictures but I need to take some off my phone first.” He grinned.

Washington shook his head. “You did see Niagara Falls, right?”

“Oh, there was water.”

“Spare me the details,” Washington groaned. “Where is your husband?”

Hamilton widened his eyes. “Was I supposed to bring him back?”

Laurens huffed out of the kitchen dragging their suitcases. “Wanna help, Alex?”

“Go help him.” Washington pushed his son off the couch. He looked at his granddaughter standing up at the coffee table. “Etty, boys are very dumb, okay? Your mama will teach you how to deal with them. Lord knows she’s getting plenty of experience.”

Henriette turned herself away from the table and moved one wobbly leg then the other.

Washington held out his hands toward her and barely dared to breathe as she took another step. “That’a girl, Etty,” he whispered.

She took another step and stumbled into his strong, protective hold.

Washington lifted her on his lap. “Grandpa will always be here for you whenever you stumble.” He kissed her head. “That will never, ever change.”


	131. Chapter 131

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later

A year later, the Hamilton’s and Jefferson’s drove down to Virginia for a vacation.

They soon arrived at the sprawling farm of Jefferson’s uncle. A grassy lawn and a picket fence surrounded the large white clapboard house. Huge trees created a wall behind the yard and added plenty of shade.

Jefferson pulled up to the four-car garage unattached to the house and yard. Everyone piled out and stretched.

Three large Briard dogs barked from the front porch. Their long, tawny coats blew as they ran toward the fence.

Madison hid behind Jefferson as the dogs jumped up at the fence they could easily jump over, while Hamilton’s face was alight and he cooed to them. Laurens continued to stretch and stare around him with a faint nostalgia for South Carolina.

“Best sheepdogs ever,” Jefferson commented as he led the group toward the gate.

“I don’t want to get bit,” Madison murmured.

“They’re nice.” Jefferson lifted Madison into his arms anyway.

Hamilton unlatched the gate and shooed the dogs back. “Sit,” he said not actually expecting them to listen. All three sat. “Dang, good dogs.” He let the closest one sniff his hand. “How can you see?” He ruffled the shaggy beard on the Briard.

“Well, hello, Thomas!” called out a man on the front porch. He whistled and the three dogs ran toward him. “Don’t mind the girls.”

“Hey, Uncle Field,” Jefferson said. He set Madison down at the bottom of the porch steps. “Thanks for letting us stay here.” He pointed to Hamilton drooling over the dogs and Laurens plucking at his t-shirt in the humid southern heat. “Our friends, Alexander and John.”

Field greeted them with a smile. “How was the drive, T?”

“Good.”

“What’re the dogs’ names?” Hamilton asked. While his husband and friends went up the porch steps, he stayed to pet the dogs.

“Liberty, Virginia, and Penny.” Field pointed to each dog as he named her. “You must like dogs?”

“Yeah, my folks have five.” Hamilton let Liberty lick his face. “They’re little dogs, though.”

Field opened the front door. “Come on in and I’ll show you to your room.”

The house had a clean, airy feel with many windows open to catch the breeze. Field led them to the finished basement where there were two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen, and a large living space.

“Nice and quiet so you boys can relax on your trip,” he said. “The grandkids won’t bother you down here.”

“I can’t wait to see Phoebe,” Jefferson said. “How many kids does she have now?”

“Two.” Field looked at the three clueless guests and explained. “My youngest daughter, Phoebe, her husband and kids live with me. Keeps an old man from getting lonely in this huge house.”

“We live with my parents, too,” Hamilton said, indicating to Laurens. While they had looked for apartments after the wedding, nothing seemed right. After several months of vetoes, Laurens finally asked. “Do you want to stay at Mount Vernon?”

After talking about it more and discussing options with the Washington’s, they decided to continue living there and Hamilton finally admitted he was terrified of Washington’s health taking a turn and him not being there to help. Washington had suffered another heart attack a month after the wedding. Although minor, it had drudged up the health concerns and Hamilton’s fears of losing his dad.

 “Nothing wrong with keeping the kids around,” Field said. “I’ll let you boys go get your luggage and settle in.”

Jefferson and Laurens headed back out to the car while Hamilton kept Madison company and explored the basement.

“We’ll take this one,” Madison said poking his head into the bedroom further from the stairs and next to the bathroom. It had a queen-sized bed, dresser, and rocking chair.

The other bedroom was next to the stairs and was about twice as big and stuffed with a full-size bed,  two twin-size cots, and a random assortment of furniture and boxes.

“He must get a lot of company,” Hamilton said.

“Well, he had nine kids,” Madison replied. “Phoebe is the same age as Thomas. The rest are older.”

Panting, Jefferson and Laurens dragged the suitcases and bags downstairs.

Madison pointed out their room and helped his husband move the luggage a little further. “I need to lie down for a little bit,” he said. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, Jem.” Jefferson opened Madison’s suitcase and pulled out his blanket and the two stuffed animals he packed. He double checked that Madison had all his medication as his husband had recently gotten over another lung infection.

Madison took off his shoes and glasses and pulled back the covers. He snuggled under and accepted his comfort items.

Jefferson kissed his forehead. “Do you want me to stay?”

“Maybe for a few minutes.” Madison closed his eyes.

Jefferson got on the other side of the bed and pulled out his phone. He had little service in the basement, though, and sank down to enjoy the quiet and his thoughts. The last year had flown by between work and enjoying life at the farmhouse. He worked from home when he could—Mr. Madison as his boss came with many perks—but put in an occasional Saturday when Madison wanted to spend a day with his mom. Sundays were always for the two of them, though. The cats were healthy and his husband had survived his last illness. He couldn’t find a single complaint.

In the other room, Laurens set his bag on one of the cots and looked at the full-size bed. “Looks like we’ll be nice and cozy.”

“Good.” Hamilton left his suitcase in the middle of the floor and bounced himself up on the bed.

A smile tugged at Laurens’ lips as he watched Hamilton. “Indeed.”

Hamilton met his gaze and the connection went from sweet to intense in seconds. A moment later, they were in each other’s space, lips together.

Between work and failed apartment hunting, their first year of marriage had been boring and stressful with the only highlight being that they’d been approved as foster parents a few weeks ago.

Hamilton pushed Laurens toward the bed as their kisses grew more frenzied and desperate.

Laurens’ yanked off Hamilton’s t-shirt and pulled him on top as he lay back on the bed.

A passionate shout from the other bedroom disturbed Jefferson’s thoughts. He cringed and slipped off the bed. Madison remained asleep and he was careful to be quiet. He closed the bedroom door and darted across the open living space. He knocked on the other bedroom door. “What the fuck, you guys?”

“Give us a minute!” Laurens yelled back. “We still live at home.”

“Ugh!” Jefferson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Pray to God that Uncle Field didn’t hear you. Hurry up and come upstairs.”

Fifteen minutes later, they found Jefferson and Field in the kitchen.

“Have a snack,” Field said. He smiled at them, no sign of having heard anything awkward. “Filled with last year’s jam.” He indicated to the bite-sized pastries on the table. “Phoebe makes amazing goodies with the farm’s produce.”

“Do you run a tourist farm like the original Mount Vernon?” Hamilton asked and stuffed a pastry in his mouth. He nuzzled up against Laurens and sat on his lap.

“Not to the same extent,” Field said. “No petting zoo but I teach horseback riding lessons and give tours on horseback around the farm and surrounding area. Phoebe and her husband sell a lot of the crop at the farmer’s market. These old plantations do attract a lot of attention. We try to accommodate.”

“When are we going horseback riding?” Hamilton’s face lit up.

“Tomorrow, if you like.” Field looked to Jefferson.

“Works for me,” Jefferson said.

“Awesome!” Hamilton bounced on his husband’s lap and grabbed another pastry. “I’ve always wanted to ride a horse. I’ve been on a donkey before back in Nevis but I was really little. English or western?”

“Western,” Field said. “It’s a little easier and safer since you’ve never ridden before. I teach both styles but I always do the trail rides western. Thomas, you can ride English if you want.”

Jefferson shook his head. “Alexander would find that too amusing.”

“Oh, come on!” Hamilton gushed. “I want to see you in tight breeches and a show coat.”

“Nope.” Jefferson ruffled Hamilton’s hair. “I haven’t worn a getup like that since I was, like, thirteen. Don’t have breeches that’ll fit.”

Hamilton looked at Field with a sly grin. “Uncle Field might.”

Field chuckled. “I probably do.”

Jefferson groaned. “You’ve seen pictures..”

“Yeah, but I want to see it live.” Hamilton grinned.

Jefferson got up from the table. “I’m going to check on Jem. You guys can think of something else to talk about.”

Field joined them at the table and set down drinks. “Alex, you have a brother, right?”

Hamilton nodded as his mouth was full. He swallowed and said, “He and his wife have two kids now. George Yves Roche was born a few months ago. My Dad is entirely smitten.”

“Excellent,” Field said. “Thomas said something about you and John fostering?”

“We just passed all the home inspections and background checks,” Laurens said and brushed back his husband’s lengthening hair. “We’re approved to take up to two kids. I doubt it’ll be long before we get a call.”

“And you plan to adopt, too?” Field asked. He sipped a glass of ice tea.

“Yes,” Hamilton said. “We’ll foster as needed but be open to adopting any that become available and bond with us.”

Field smiled. “I admire your devotion. Now, you’re planning to become a Kindergarten teacher?”

“Yup!”

While talk went on in the kitchen, Jefferson opened the bedroom door in the basement.

“Feel better?” he asked when Madison stirred.

Madison sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah.”

Jefferson found a hairbrush in his husband’s bag and sat next to him. He untangled Madison’s long hair. “We’re having snacks upstairs. Are you hungry?”

“A little.” Madison stopped a yawn and slipped on his glasses. He’d taken to wearing them instead of contacts since he couldn’t get through a day without at least one nap and sleeping in the lenses hurt his eyes.

Once his hair was brushed, Madison followed Jefferson upstairs.

Laurens and Hamilton had moved to the front porch to visit the dogs.

Jefferson sat at the kitchen table, Madison on his lap while his husband nibbled on a pastry.

“Where is Phoebe at?” Jefferson asked.

Field stopped his search through the pantry. “She and the family are checking out some sheep for sale an hour south. They’ll be home by supper.”

“Good. I haven’t seen Phoebe in forever.” Jefferson squeezed his husband. “You’ll like her,” he murmured. “She’s a lot like Angelica.”

Madison reached for another pastry.

Phoebe, her husband Clark, and their two young kids returned before five.

The boys were on the front porch, drinking, and watching Field make fried chicken.

Halfway across the yard, Phoebe stopped. “Thomas Jefferson, are you going to get your lazy ass off that chair and greet me properly or not?”

Jefferson grinned and moved Madison off his lap. He hurried to his cousin and embraced her. “It’s been too long.”

“So long.” Phoebe squeezed him tight. She had the Jefferson family height only a few inches shorter than her cousin and taller than her husband.

Clark greeted Jefferson with a handshake, baby in his arms. The toddler stood by his side staring up at Jefferson.

Jefferson took his cousin’s hand. “Come and meet Jemmy.”

Introductions were soon finished. Clark took the kids inside to clean up while Phoebe left to retrieve something from their car. She came back with a lamb and set it in Madison’s lap. “You look like you need something to snuggle,” she said.

Madison stroked the soft wool, face smoothing out as his anxiety lessened.

“It’s a bum lamb,” Phoebe explained. “Bottle baby. I can’t resist them.”

“Jemmy likes to rescue baby animals, too,” Jefferson said and told a story about the kittens they’d recently fostered.

While he talked, another car pulled into the driveway. There was never a need to announce when relatives visited, the family just knew. An impromptu party was soon underway as some neighbors stopped by as well. Everyone brought food and a table was set out on the porch and filled with fried chicken, BBQ ribs, coleslaw, beans, various salads, cornbread, biscuits, and fruit. Drinks were passed around as more introductions made.

Madison kept himself tucked away with the lamb, which Phoebe taught him how to feed.

The party dragged into the night with more drinks and a bonfire.

Laurens mingled effortlessly and had plenty of stories to tell. After a few drinks, Hamilton livened up and chatted with Clark and the young neighbors. Jefferson and Phoebe never stopped talking to each other. Madison remained the only one out of his element, especially once Clark took the lamb to the barn to sleep and acquaint with the other lambs. He slipped into the house and picked through the leftover desserts but didn’t find anything that satisfied him.

Hamilton, coming in to use the bathroom, spotted him. “You alright?”

Madison shrugged. “Too many people.”

“Yeah.” Hamilton hugged him. “I’ll go downstairs with you if you want.”

“You don’t need to,” Madison said. “You’re having fun outside.”

“But I won’t be able to if I know you’re all alone.” Hamilton took Madison’s hand and led him toward the basement.

After using the bathroom, Hamilton checked the fridge and found a case of hard lemonade. He grabbed two and sat on the couch with Madison. “To peace and quiet,” he said.

Madison clinked his bottle with Hamilton’s. “I love you, Alex.”

“Wow, Jem, you’re not even drunk yet,” Hamilton teased before he nuzzled Madison close. “I love you, too, little duck,”

They finished their drinks and each opened a second.

It was after midnight before the party broke apart and Jefferson and Laurens returned to the basement.

Hamilton and Madison were asleep on the couch, five empty bottles on the coffee table giving a clear indicator as to why.

Jefferson scooped Madison up and carried him to bed. Too drunk to search out pajamas, he undressed his husband and tucked him under the covers and stripped off his own clothes.

“Alex.” Laurens shook Hamilton. “Come to bed.”

Hamilton squinted and struggled to focus his vision. “What?”

“Bedtime.” Laurens pulled him off the couch and half-dragged, half-carried him to the bedroom. He got Hamilton on the bed and took off his boots and jeans. He changed and got under the covers.

Hamilton snuggled into him and kissed his neck. He fell asleep, lips still pressed against his husband’s skin.


	132. Chapter 132

No one got up before ten the next morning. Jefferson was the first to drag himself up. He showered, dressed, and headed upstairs.

Field was in the kitchen minding the baby and slicing up some fruit. The dogs lay about the room making an obstacle course to maneuver around.

“Good morning, Thomas,” Field said. “There’s some muffins and juice on the table.”

Jefferson returned the greeting, sat down, and helped himself to a banana nut muffin and orange juice. Field soon brought him a dish of fruit.

“Is Jemmy feeling alright?” he asked. “He hasn’t said much.”

“He gets overwhelmed easily,” Jefferson said as he reached for another muffin. “He’s shy in general. Plus he’s just getting over an illness.”

“He’s a doll.” Field settled the baby in a highchair and gave her some cereal. “The whole family loves him.”

Jefferson smiled. “I’m glad.”

“How’s the house?”

“We love it.” Jefferson told him about the recent projects to fix up the kitchen and put in a cozy breakfast nook. Now retired, Washington had done most of the work for them. With Hamilton and Laurens at home and taking over the yard work and house projects, he found his use elsewhere helping Jefferson with house maintenance and showing him how to fix various things. The farmhouse was old and left to disrepair for many years but with proper attention, it was becoming a lovely home. Mrs. Washington visited once or twice a week to help Madison make a few meals to freeze for the week and help him with some cleaning.

Hamilton was the next one up looking no worse for wear from drinking as he greeted the dogs and bounded over to the table. “I’m starving.” He tickled the baby under her chin.

“Help yourself,” Field said.

Hamilton tucked his bare feet on the chair as he reached for a muffin. “When are we going horseback riding?”

“We’ll go after lunch,” Field said. “I’m glad you’re enthusiastic.”

Hamilton grinned.

The boys soon headed back downstairs to make the others get up.

Jefferson stroked Madison’s hair. “You drank a lot last night, Jem.”

Madison groaned. “I don’t even remember.”

“Don’t make a habit of it.” Jefferson opened Madison’s suitcase. “I doubt your body can handle much alcohol, especially if you don’t eat.” He set out jeans and a t-shirt on the bed. “Get dressed and I’ll give you a present.”

Madison needed no further prompting and quickly dressed.

Jefferson got a bag out of his suitcase. “I know you aren’t crazy about going horseback riding but I thought these might help.” He handed his husband a pair of black lace-up riding boots.

“Oh, T!” Madison grabbed the boots. “I love them.”

Jefferson kissed him. “I’m glad.” His pleasure instantly vanished as sounds from the other bedroom intensified. “We should have rethought who we invited with us.”

“Yeah, but they haven’t had a lot of time alone together,” Madison said. “You know how busy they’ve been.”

“True.” They’d managed to see their friends only a handful of times the past year between Hamilton busy with overtime and working on his teaching certificate, and Laurens as assistant manager of a bar and restaurant and usually working nights.

Even though Jefferson and Hamilton had eaten less than two hours ago, both were game for lunch.

“How many cats do you have now, Jemmy?” Field asked as he sat down with the boys.

“Three,” Madison said. He picked at his sandwich and set half on Jefferson’s plate. “We’ve been talking about adding a fourth.”

“That’ll be fun,” Field said. “How’re your folks?”

Madison nibbled on the piece of cheese from his sandwich.

“They just had another baby,” Jefferson said as he stroked his husband’s hair. “A girl, Franny.” He set another piece of cheese on his husband’s plate.

“Bess was appalled,” Hamilton added and told Field all about his favorite little girl. “She ran away to Mount Vernon for an hour after her parents brought the baby home. She’s accepted Franny now, thankfully. Cute baby.” He grinned at his husband.

“Alex is baby obsessed,” Jefferson said.

“Obsessed is too kind,” Laurens teased. “We took a parenting class and Alex tried to steal one of the robotic babies that cry and stuff.” He shook his head at his husband. “We almost failed the class.”

“That had nothing to do with me stealing the baby,” Hamilton insisted. “You somehow broke two of the non-robotic dolls, John. The teacher was afraid of you.”

Laurens grinned. “It was fun.”

After the meal, the boys followed Field out to the huge red barn. In front at the tie rail, five horses waited, three already saddled.

Field greeted his stable hand and introduced the horses to the boys. “Thomas, I bet you remember Little Butters.” He pointed to the Palomino at the end. “Although, she was a foal the last time you saw her.”

“Oh, my God,” Jefferson exclaimed. “That’s Little Butters?” He excitedly told his friends how he’d been there the night she was born.

“She’s turning out to be an excellent mare,” Field said. “Spirited yet trusting. Jester is there for you, I know you used to enjoy riding him.”

Jefferson grinned and went up to the dark brown, almost black horse. He stood taller than the rest of the horses and played with his lead rope tying him to the rail.

While Jefferson reacquainted himself with his old buddy, Field introduced the rest of the boys to their horses. “Alexander, you’ll be on Socks.” He pointed to the horse in the middle, an oddly scruffy bay with white socks and a wide blaze on his nose. “You’ll have fun on him. He’s got spunk. John, you’ll be on Sundance.”

Laurens studied the speckled roan. Sundance was older, mellow, but Field promised he had a smooth gait and would be enjoyable to ride.

While those two familiarized themselves around the beasts and asked the stable hand questions, Field coaxed Madison to the end of the rail. A stocky piebald with a short upright mane and barely tall enough to be considered a horse stood half-asleep.

“This is Short Stack,” Field said. “He’s our gentlest horse and will take it nice and easy with you.”

Madison remained a few feet back from the tie rail.

Field took a baggy of sugar cubes out of his pocket and gave a few to Madison. “Go make friends. Keep your hand flat and your fingers together.”

Jefferson watched from the other end of the tie rail as Madison approached the horse and offered the sugar cubes.

Short Stack snorted and took the treat gently, although Madison made a face at the slime left behind on his hand.

Field gave sugar cubes to the rest of the boys to feed the horses. “Thomas, I’ll let you help your husband and I’ll give Alexander and John instructions.”

Jefferson agreed and joined Madison. “This won’t be scary, I promise.” He tucked Madison’s hair back. “I have something that might help.” He hurried into the barn and returned with a metallic purple helmet. “It’s one of my cousin’s,” he explained and buckled the strap under Madison’s chin. “Now you’ll be safe.”

Madison nodded.

“Ready to mount?”

“No,” Madison mumbled.

While Jefferson consoled him further, Field helped Hamilton and Laurens untie their horses and led them away to have more room. He explained how to use the rein to turn, pull back to stop. “Use a gentle hand,” he commanded. “These are all well-broke trail horses and know the ropes. You can enjoy your ride without guiding the horse much.” He showed them how to check the cinch before mounting to ensure it remained tight enough. “Hop up, Alexander, and I’ll adjust the stirrups.”

Hamilton stared at the horse and suddenly realized how uncoordinated he was. “How…?”

“Pop your left foot in the stirrup and swing over,” Field said. “Hold onto the rein so you have control if Socks decides to move.”

Hamilton managed to get his foot in the stirrup and heaved himself up.

“Good job.” Field showed him how to hold the rein and he tied up the lead rope to the horn. He raised the stirrups up until Hamilton’s feet rested easily with a slight bend at the knee. “Heels down, toes up. Good boy.”

Laurens chewed on his lip as Field moved onto him. Being somewhat athletic, he didn’t worry about getting up but more that the horse would decide to move before he was ready and he’d fall.

“Hop up there, John,” Field said.

Patting Sundance on the shoulder, Laurens stuck his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over the saddle.

Field gave him instructions while Laurens stroked the horse’s neck.

Jefferson grinned at his friends in the saddle. “See, Jemmy? You can do it.” He untied Short Stack and led the horse to the mounting block—a three-step plywood box. He knew Madison didn’t have the strength to pull himself up and it would be safer than helping Madison into the saddle himself.

Taking a deep breath, Madison climbed up the steps and stood taller than the horse.

Jefferson kept Short Stack close and praised his husband as he got on the stout beast. “Hold onto the horn,” he instructed Madison as he moved the horse away from the mounting block so he had room to raise the stirrups. He moved Madison’s feet in place. “Don’t push your foot all the way forward,” he instructed. “Just your toes in the stirrup and your weight down.” He handed Madison the rein and showed him how to turn and stop.

Field joined them to tie up the lead rope since Jefferson forgot how the knot worked. He remained beside Short Stack while Jefferson retrieved Jester and mounted. He grinned as he sat high in the saddle.

“Alright, boys,” Field said and got on Little Butters. “Alexander, follow behind me, John behind him. Thomas, you will bring up the rear. Jemmy, don’t cry, love.”

Jefferson urged Jester forward and touched Madison’s helmet. “No tears, okay?” he soothed. “I’ll be right behind you.”

The horses moved into their line as if having understood the order and followed Little Butters without complaint.

The trail took the boys along the edge of the woods that bordered the huge pasture and soon into the cool leafy cover.

Hamilton’s eyes were wide with delight as he petted Socks’ neck and watched the gelding’s ears turn back to listen to him murmur praise.

Laurens relaxed to Sundance’s gentle motion and took in the cheerful bird sounds and fresh scent of plant growth that reminded him of childhood summers in South Carolina. He grinned to watch his husband rocking gently with the horse’s motion.

Field led them toward a narrow, shallow creek. “Alexander, Socks might jump the creek so hold on.”

Hamilton’s face broke into a toothy grin.

While Little Butters walked through the water with no problem. Socks, indeed, took a short hop over it.

“That was awesome!” Hamilton gushed and patted Socks’ neck.

Sundance plodded through the water and snorted.

“Thomas!” Madison panicked. “I don’t want to jump!”

Jefferson urged Jester beside Short Stack. “He won’t, I promise,” he assured. “That old pony wouldn’t be able to.”

“No!”

Jefferson stopped their horses. “Please, don’t cry, Jemmy. We can go back to the barn. Is that what you want to do?”

Madison nodded.

“Okay.” Jefferson called out to his uncle. “We’re going back. Give Alexander and John a good, long ride.”

“Will do.” Field waved and chirruped to Little Butters.

Jefferson untied Short Stack’s lead rope and ponied them back to the barn. He tied Jester up first and led Short Stack to the mounting block.

Madison stumbled off. “My legs feel weird.”

Jefferson chuckled. “You’ll be fine in a few minutes.” He let the stable hand take care of the horses and took Madison’s hand. “Do you want to go into town? Do some shopping?”

“Yeah!”

Jefferson removed Madison’s helmet and kissed his head.

They freshened up at the house and left a note for Field.

Back on the trail, Field led the way out of the forest and toward an open field. “You boys want to go a little faster?”

“Yes!” Hamilton exclaimed.

“Sure,” Laurens agreed.

“Hold onto the horn if you need to,” Field said. “Don’t want anyone falling off.” He gave Little Butters a nudge to the side and she broke into a trot.

Socks and Sundance needed little urging as they wanted to keep close to the lead horse.

Field chirruped Little Butters faster and got her up to a lope before returning into the forest. He looked back at the boys to see their grinning faces. “Fun?”

“Hell, yeah!” Hamilton punched the air.

Laurens nodded, stray curls blowing across his grinning face.

The town was a twenty-minute drive away.

“Can I still get a horse someday?” Jefferson asked as he merged onto the interstate.

“Yeah, just don’t expect me to interact with it,” Madison said. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted to ride.”

“I’ll ride with Uncle Field tomorrow,” Jefferson said. “Don’t worry about it.” He reached over and squeezed Madison’s hand. “I know there is an awesome candy store in town. Let’s get you filled up with sugar.”

The boys all returned to the farmhouse within a few minutes of each other. Hamilton and Laurens dusty and sweaty, Jefferson and Madison carrying shopping bags and candy.

Phoebe laughed when they piled into the kitchen bringing contrasting scents of manure and sugar. “Well, I can tell y'all had fun.” She handed the baby over to Field. “Dinner will be ready in a half hour. Some of you should probably shower.”

Jefferson turned to Hamilton. “How did you get so filthy?” He took in his friend’s muddy jeans and green-smeared shirt.

Hamilton smiled. “I got bucked off.”

Jefferson glanced at his uncle who shook his head.

Laurens quickly spilled the truth. “He got his foot stuck in the stirrup when he tried to get off and instead of waiting for help, fell in a mud puddle once he got his foot out.”

Hamilton punched him. “Hush.”

“No one was going to believe you got bucked off anyway.” Laurens rolled his eyes. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

Madison woke Jefferson the next morning. “I’m hungry.”

Jefferson rubbed his eyes and glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand: barely eight o’clock. “Good, but you didn’t need to wake me.”

“Can you make me chocolate chip pancakes?”

“If Uncle Field has the ingredients.” Jefferson rolled out of bed and threw on sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Madison opened the door but Jefferson stopped him. “You’re still wearing my shirt.”

“So?” Madison smiled back at him. “I like it.”

Jefferson let him be figuring Madison was cute enough to get away with wearing a long t-shirt to breakfast.

Field heard movement in the kitchen and went to investigate.

Jefferson rummaged through cabinets while Madison sat on the counter, swinging his bare legs.

“Good morning.”

The cabinet door slipped from Jefferson’s hand with a clatter. “Morning, Uncle Field. Um, Jemmy wanted chocolate chip pancakes.”

Field chuckled and dug out a box of pancake mix and a bag of chocolate chips. “That should work for you. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.” Jefferson heated a pan on the stove and measured out the mix.

“Lots of chocolate chips,” Madison insisted as Jefferson tried to be conservative. “More.”

“I’m not adding the whole bag,” Jefferson said. “Half will have to do.”

“Fine.”

Thundering footsteps up the stairs announced Hamilton and Laurens’ arrival long before they entered the kitchen.

“Something smells good,” Hamilton declared. “Well, look at that, Thomas Jefferson can cook.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Jemmy is better. I’m not actually sure why I’m making pancakes for him.”

Madison smiled. “Because I’m adorable.”

“True.” Jefferson glanced at their friends. “You guys getting enough action?” Random noises had kept him awake past eleven.

“Nope,” Hamilton said. He pulled himself up on the counter next to Madison.

“I got another two days in me,” Laurens agreed.

“You guys are gross.” Jefferson slid only slightly burned pancakes on a plate. He began mixing more batter and chocolate chips.

“Is there a plan for today?” Hamilton asked.

“Nothing official,” Jefferson said. “I want to ride with Uncle Field if any of you wanted to join.”

“Might take you up on that,” Hamilton said. “John?”

“I dunno,” Laurens said. “Between riding the horse and you, I’m pretty sore.”

“Gross, John,” Jefferson complained while the other three smirked. “You’re so deviant.”

“Ooo fancy words are coming out,” Hamilton teased.

Jefferson finished the pancakes. “You guys better appreciate my effort.”

“Oh, totally,” Hamilton said.

After breakfast, Hamilton and Laurens cleared the table while the other couple went downstairs.

“I could take you right here right now,” Laurens said and stood behind Hamilton. He slipped his fingers into the elastic waistband of his track pants.

“You couldn’t.” He bit his lip.

“Is that a challenge?” Laurens pulled Hamilton’s pants down a few inches and pressed in closer. “Because I might win.”

“Go for it.” Hamilton shivered as Laurens pulled down his underwear.

Wood floors were a life saver as they heard footsteps far enough away to put themselves in order before Field stepped into the kitchen. “Ready to ride?” he asked.

Hamilton’s face went red and Laurens choked.

“Jus-just waiting on Thomas,” Hamilton stammered. He turned back toward the sink while Laurens excused himself. He busted out laughing the moment he was out of sight.

“Where is Thomas?” Field asked either oblivious to the odd behavior or ignoring it.

“Having a moment with his husband,” Hamilton said. He managed to calm himself enough to face Field. “I’ll go get ready.”

“Meet you at the barn.”

He found Laurens naked in their room. “Settle down,” Hamilton hissed at him. “Tonight, totally, but put on some clothes.” He stepped out his track pants to exchange for jeans. “Are you coming?”

A wide grin spread across Laurens’ face.

Hamilton groaned. He grabbed his boots and slammed the door behind him.

 

Jefferson and Hamilton returned after one, sore and enthusiastic. Field had taken them up in the hills to do some real riding up and down gullies and through creeks and loping across fields.

“You have to get two horses,” Hamilton gushed to Jefferson. “You have to teach me.” He followed him into the bathroom. “Not English, though, I want to gallop and rope cattle.”

“I have never roped anything,” Jefferson said. “Someday I hope to get horses.” He ruffled Hamilton’s sweaty hair. “You’ll be more than welcome to ride and you can teach me how to rope.”

Hamilton grinned. “Shower together?”

“Nope.” Jefferson shoved him out of the bathroom and locked the door.

“I thought we were having a moment!” Hamilton whined at the closed door.

“Yeah, Thomas doesn’t share the bathroom,” Madison said from the couch where he was reading.

Hamilton joined him and pulled Madison’s bare feet in his lap.

Madison sank down further, back against the armrest. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.” Hamilton massaged Madison’s toes. “This whole trip is amazing. I love getting to spend time with you and Thomas.”

“And John?” Madison grinned.

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “Where is he?”

“Phoebe was showing him around.”  Madison stuck a bookmark in his book. “For some reason, she thinks he’s cute.”

He was about to agree when his phone rang. His heart pounded as he answered. “This is Alexander.”

The social worker gave a quick greeting and got down to business. “We have a sibling pair, two boys ages five and six, can you and John take them as soon as you’re back from vacation?”

“Of course,” Hamilton said.

The social worker thanked him and hung up. Washington had warned his son not to expect much information when he accepted a foster child. Learning the other side of the system had been eye-opening to Hamilton and made him hate the system he’d grown up in all the more, yet motivated him to be as amazing as his own dad to their foster children.

He looked at Madison watching him. “John and I are truly foster parents now.”

***

The boys slept in as no one wanted to head back home. Madison cried as they said goodbye to Field and Phoebe, although the tears were more about leaving such a pleasant vacation than leaving Jefferson’s family.

“We’ll do this again,” Jefferson assured as they piled into the car.

No one said anything as they all knew how hard it would become in the future to coordinate work schedules, money, and babysitters for the future Hamilton children.


	133. Chapter 133

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven years later

_Dear Aaron,_

_A text or email felt too impersonal to share what I have to tell you and I would never be able to get the words out on the phone. Our little duck passed away. He stopped breathing during the night and couldn’t be revived. His lungs couldn’t handle life anymore. As you can imagine, Thomas is not doing well. I can’t even comprehend the situation myself. Jemmy meant the world to all of us._

_Your forever friend,_

_A. Ham_


	134. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

Jefferson parked in front of the animal shelter. Hands on the steering wheel he sucked in several deep breaths and closed his eyes. He turned off the truck and got out. He retrieved several bags from the back seat and headed inside the building.

It looked the same as it had years ago. Same blue and yellow color scheme. Same bulletin board, although with different pictures as the volunteers had changed over the years. He looked away before he spotted his husband’s picture.

“Hi, Thomas, it’s been a while,” Katie said as she came out of the stray cat room. “We haven’t—” She stopped upon noticing the dead look in Jefferson’s eyes. She tugged at her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry.”

Jefferson swallowed and managed to get his voice to work without shaking. “Some food for the cats,” he said and clenched his jaw tight. Pain pounded through his chest. It was too soon. He shouldn’t have come. He swallowed again and pulled a check from his pocket.

Katie accepted it. “Wow, this—this will help a lot. Thank you, Thomas.”

Jefferson wiped his eyes and fought to control his vocal cords. “For the cat room expansion.” Tears spilled down his cheeks and he wiped them with both hands.

Katie touched his arm. “He was very special.”

He couldn’t stop the tears any longer and his nose dripped. He sucked in a shaky breath.

Katie handed him a tissue. “I’ll keep you updated on the building progress. We’ll want to dedicate it to him.”

Jefferson wiped his eyes. “Thank you.” He turned away and left as the sobs overpowered him. Back in his truck, he rested his forehead against the steering wheel gasping for air and half-screaming. How was he supposed to live without his Jemmy? What was the point?

Like so many times before, he controlled the tears and moved forward only to fall apart just as hard a little later.

At home—no, at the house—he barely made it inside before the grief consumed him once more. The cats rubbed against his legs but he pushed them away and blindly stumbled into the guest room where he now slept. He curled up on the bed, sobbing into Madison’s blanket.

At a quarter to six, Hamilton let himself in as usual and went about feeding the cats and cleaning litter boxes. He made tea and heated up the food he had brought. He set the table and dished up two servings even though he knew one would go untouched. He knocked on the guest bedroom door. “Dinner, Thomas.”

Jefferson dragged himself up and joined Hamilton in the kitchen. As usual, he picked at the food only nibbling a few bites.

“Did you go to the animal shelter today?” Hamilton asked.

Jefferson nodded.

“It was rough, wasn’t it?”

Jefferson nodded again.

Hamilton squeezed his hand. “I’ll stay tonight.” Laurens could manage their foster son for one night with the help of his parents. While they’d been fostering for the past seven years, all the stays had been short-term with no child becoming available to adopt. The couple had hope that this boy, Philip, would be the one.

Tears spilled down Jefferson’s cheeks as he shut his eyes.

Hamilton found a box of tissues and rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder while he sobbed.

At bedtime, Hamilton got out the sleeping bag—that he had used many times over the past few months—from the closet and lay it on the floor at the foot of the bed. The orange tabby cat, Hamlet, the couple had adopted a year ago lay on his chest. Lily and Grace always slept with Jefferson. Vanity had passed away the year before.

The next morning, Hamilton left Jefferson alone and went about the cat chores and made breakfast. He checked on his friend before he left for work at the nearby private school where he taught Kindergarten, but let him sleep. Mrs. Washington would come by later and make lunch and try—again—to convince him to move back to the Estates.

Jefferson was up by the time she arrived but he couldn’t bother to change out of his pajamas. He sat in the kitchen staring out at the garden now as dead as his heart.

Mrs. Washington puttered inside and greeted the cats. She talked to them as she made her way to the kitchen. “Hello, dear,” she told Jefferson. She didn’t expect an answer and didn’t receive one. She went to work checking that the cats still had food and water. She heated up some soup and set a sleeve of crackers on the table. A sad smile touched her face as she watched Jefferson reach for a cracker, Lily curled on his lap. He had lost at least ten pounds, likely more, his eating habits now mirroring his deceased husband’s.

“We would like you closer, dear,” Mrs. Washington said. She filled two bowls with soup and set them on the table. She sat across from Jefferson.

Jefferson nibbled on another cracker. “Okay.” His voice rasped as if he’d screamed his throat raw.

Mrs. Washington patted his hand. “I’ll tell Alexander and he can get your things tonight.”

There was never a warning. Tears spilled down Jefferson’s cheeks and a sob erupted from his already angry throat.

Mrs. Washington clutched his hand as her own eyes filled with tears. The news had been a horrible shock. She’d managed to pick herself back enough to function but Washington continued to struggle with the realization that his godson was gone. The grandchildren—the du Montier’s had another daughter—and flow of foster children helped a little but a smile was rare and a laugh non-existent.

She remained at the house when Hamilton returned in the evening. He hugged her tight, seeing the pain in her eyes and knowing how her day had gone.

“Thomas is going to move in,” she murmured. “He’s resting now but can you pack his things?”

“Of course.” Hamilton squeezed his mom’s hands and went to work. It would be a full house with the Washington’s, Hamilton, Laurens, Philip, and now Jefferson. Plus the dogs and cats.

Jefferson was asleep on the couch giving Hamilton easy access to the guest room. He packed up his friend’s clothes and toiletries in boxes he had stashed in the house weeks ago. He taped the boxes securely and loaded them in the bed of his truck. He packed the cat’s supplies next and located the pet carriers.

Hardest was to enter the master bedroom. He had managed to bury most of his own pain but seeing Madison’s stuffed animals, his quirky clothes, the pictures of him and Jefferson—no one could be immune to that.

The bed remained unmade, clothes still on the floor from the midnight rush to the hospital.

Hamilton’s lip quivered at the sight of Madison’s stuffed duck on the floor. That was it. He couldn’t hold back the pain and let the dam break in choked screams. Why their little duck? Why now? Why so sudden? He remembered the knock on the front door at six in the morning. Marty J’s swollen, blotchy face as she told them the news. _Just stopped breathing. No, Thomas is not okay. No one knows what to do._

Mrs. Washington had fainted. Washington barely caught her, as he was struck dumb. Hamilton had remained rooted to the ground, the news not comprehending, not possible—no!

“Alexander?” Mrs. Washington rested a hand on his shoulder. “Thomas is ready to go.”

Hamilton nodded. He closed the bedroom door.

Jefferson ushered the cats into their carriers with grief-swollen eyes. He pointed to a box on the table and picked up Lily’s cage.

Hamilton put the box in Mrs. Washington’s car and returned for the other two cats.

Jefferson didn’t look back as he got in Hamilton’s truck.

He moved into Hamilton’s old room. The cats settled in without complaint and tormented the dogs more than the other way around.

Lily and Grace behaved themselves but Hamlet was on everything, which made Mrs. Washington glad she had long ago child-proofed the house.

Since he was currently unable to work, Jefferson knew selling the house was imminent or risk burning through his savings to pay the mortgage. Writing down a little each day, he made a list of what to do with everything in the house. He could see the whole house clear in his mind, which made the situation harder while easier at the same time. He could see the cozy nook in the kitchen with its bench seats on two sides where he and Madison had brunch on Sundays and read the paper. He could envision the family room where they spent so many nights watching movies and documentaries. Or his perfectly organized office where Madison would come to pester him when Jefferson worked too much and move stuff around to annoy him. The library, too, where they’d spent many Saturdays on the fluffy rug reading to each other in the warm sunlight from the huge window.

The master bedroom and Madison’s toy room, though, he blocked away. Someone would have to decide what to do with everything in those rooms. He couldn’t.

Mrs. Washington, Hamilton, and Madison’s parents braved the house to pack everything up. Washington couldn’t bear to be in the farmhouse that he’d helped repair and rebuild to make it the Jefferson’s own. Mr. Madison hired a moving company to deal with the furniture Jefferson wanted to keep and take it to a storage unit. The dining room set along with the china dishes and tea set in the hutch would go to Angelica and Jane. The rest, Mr. Madison decided, would be included in with the house sale.

Mrs. Washington and Mrs. Madison started in the kitchen. Jefferson had been vague about what he wanted to keep in there and they made the decision to pack up the basics and donate the duplicates and odds and ends that accumulated through the years.

Mr. Madison went to work in the office. Thanks to Jefferson’s meticulous organization, he had no trouble finding the paperwork they would need to sell the house and recent bills and papers he might need, not knowing how long before Jefferson would unpack everything. Everything else, Mr. Madison boxed up keeping the organization intact and labeling each box as precise as possible. The only hard part came when he moved aside a stack of books recently placed on the desk and found a picture of his son in full ‘Jemmy’ mode with streaks of color in his hair, wearing a skirt, and clutching a stuffed animal. He quickly put it in an envelope and labeled it.

Hamilton braved the upstairs and returned to the master bedroom. He ignored the clutter, the reminder of that night, and set boxes near the dresser. He packed up the rest of Jefferson’s clothes, ties, belts, and handkerchiefs. He froze, though, opening Madison’s side of the dresser.

Never as precise as his husband, the tank tops, socks, and underwear were jammed inside. The bright, colorful, organized chaos that was James Madison.

Most of it would need to be tossed but Hamilton couldn’t open a garbage bag and make that move. He jumped to hear footsteps in the hallway.

“Alexander?”

The voice was familiar yet it took Hamilton’s grief-stricken brain a moment to place it. “Aaron.” He scrambled up and embraced his long-lost friend. “What’re you doing here?”

“I knew you guys would need help,” Burr said. “I wish I could have made it to the memorial but Theodosia’s been ill.”

“It’s okay,” Hamilton said. He let go of Burr and studied him. He’d gained weight and his hair had started to recede back several inches from his round, handsome face. Dark circles under his eyes shadowed his face and he looked worn, aged further than thirty-two.

“How’s Thomas?” Burr asked.

Hamilton could only shake his head.

Burr nodded in understanding and glanced around the room. It was the first time he’d been to the farmhouse. “I can pack up in here if you want,” he said. “I know you’re hurting.”

“Thanks,” Hamilton mumbled. He watched Burr pick up the clothes on the floor that no one had dared touch for months. He hurried out and went to work in the library.

Mrs. Washington had briefed Burr on their instructions, stating that since there was none for the bedroom, to bag up the clothes for donation but pack any personal effects and toss the bedding.

He started with the bed, still unmade, stripping away the sheets where Madison had stopped breathing. He stuffed the bedding in a black garbage bag and finished where Hamilton had left off at the dresser. Socks and underwear, he tossed. Clothes in good condition he put in white garbage bags for donation. In the top drawer, he found a collection of tie clips, little trinkets, cards, random notes. He packed everything carefully in the box Hamilton had started. A scrap of paper floated down from a card. He picked it up and sighed at the date written in the corner, from Madison’s first year of college. How many lifetimes ago was that? Not enough for Jefferson. Burr found a sudden longing to go back to that year. To the debates, the parties, the friendships. How had they ended up here, Madison dead, himself long estranged?

Burr returned the note, taped up the box, and moved to the closet. He went to work pulling hangers out of Madison’s clothes and folding up the shirts and sweaters.

Tops that were pure ‘Jemmy’ he put in a different pile to keep: T-shirts with unicorns, hoodies with ears, sweatshirts with cats. He had an acquaintance who could make them into pillows. When the pain wasn’t so raw, he knew Madison’s friends would appreciate them.

The group worked late into the evening, wanting it all done at once. The moving van was packed and driven to the storage unit. A few small boxes of books were stashed in the trunk of Washington’s Cadillac. The only thing left was Madison’s playroom. No one had been in there since he died. No one knew what to expect.

Mrs. Madison wouldn’t go near the room and stayed downstairs. Mrs. Washington kept her company.

“I can pack it up,” Burr offered. “I imagine everything will want to be kept.”

Mr. Madison and Hamilton couldn’t answer.

At last, Hamilton reached for the doorknob and turned it.

The room was how Madison had left it the night before he died, never knowing he wouldn’t return to finish the photoshoot he had set up. The winter background was still up, cotton fluff on the floor for snow, the stuffed animals still in winter sweaters and snowsuits. A tiny Christmas tree remained in the corner of the room that he never got around to putting away after the holidays.

Mr. Madison turned away.

Hamilton stepped inside and picked up Madison’s camera off the floor. Jefferson could have told him exactly how he found his husband sitting on the floor before the winter scene complaining about the lighting. Jefferson had chuckled and told him to wait until morning to use natural light. He had taken the camera out of Madison’s hands, set in on the floor, and picked him up. “Bedtime. I’ll help you in the morning.”

Hamilton turned on the camera and the last picture Madison had taken popped up: him and Jefferson, tired but happy. “Why?” he mumbled.

Burr rested a hand on his shoulder. There was no answer.

“I’ll pack everything up,” Burr said. “Go home.”

Hamilton nodded. He took the camera and headed downstairs.

“The keys to lock up will be on the kitchen table,” Mr. Madison said from the hallway. “I’ll have the boxes picked up tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.” Burr listened to his footsteps disappear. A few minutes later, he heard the front door close and the rumble of two cars starting.

Alone in the quiet house, Burr went to work taping boxes together and packing up the toy furniture. The accessories and clothes could remain in their multitude of large totes. He stuffed the animals into white garbage bags. He packed up the lights and backdrops, the Christmas tree, and “snow.”

As he taped the last box closed, the tears blurred his vision and he couldn’t see where the tape needed to go. Only a few months ago, Theodosia had been diagnosed with liver cancer. Her doctor was optimistic that chemo would shrink the tumor and surgery could remove the rest. He couldn’t think about not having her in his life. Couldn’t even fathom how much pain Jefferson was in. Their daughter Theodosia Jr, who they called TJ, had just turned four. How could he raise her alone?

But at least he’d have time to plan, to make preparations, and prepare himself and TJ if Theodosia couldn’t fight the cancer. This room made clear that Madison nor Jefferson had such a warning.

Burr wiped away the tears and finished taping the box. He had missed so many years of his friend’s life. He could never get that back.

Boxes stacked, bags in a row, Burr turned off the light and headed downstairs. The house echoed from lack of furniture, from lack of life. He found the keys and headed to the front door. He stepped onto the front porch and drew the door behind him. He paused before closing the door completely. He glanced back inside to the darkness. “Goodbye, Jemmy.”

***

Jefferson struggled to get comfortable but no position eased the ache in his body. Before he couldn’t stand to have someone else in his bed, in Jemmy’s spot, it was why Hamilton had always slept on the floor. But tonight the pain ran too deep. The cats, despite their loud purrs and comforting warmth, didn’t help either. He was lonely. No. He was alone.

He closed the door to his room as he left to keep the cats contained and shuffled down the hall. He opened the door to Hamilton and Lauren’ room. “Alexander?”

Hamilton was still awake, sitting in bed in the dark with his laptop open. Laurens was at work at the bar he managed and co-owned.

“Sorry, if you’re working—“

“It’s okay, T.” Hamilton turned on the lamp, closed the laptop and set it on the nightstand, and. “What do you need?”

“Can you sleep in my room?” Jefferson remained in the hallway.

“Of course.” Hamilton got out of bed. “Let me get my sleeping bag.”

“No.” Jefferson shivered. “I need you close.”

Hamilton followed him down the hall past Philip’s room.

They got in bed, Jefferson still shaking.

Hamilton turned off the light and lay still on his back. His chest ached as he listened to Jefferson’s muffled sobs and sniffles. “Thomas?” He touched his friend’s back.

Jefferson flinched.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jefferson choked and trembled. “I just—I expect it to be him.”

Hamilton pressed a hand to his lips, fighting back his own emotions. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No.”

They lay in silence as Jefferson’s cries faded away.

“Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you hold me?”

Hamilton rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around Jefferson. Instantly, he was shocked and little frightened by how fragile Jefferson’s body had become. He’d always had a strong physique but four months of depression and grief had destroyed him. His muscles were lax, his ribs digging into Hamilton’s arms, his spine into his chest. No one had noticed because he wouldn’t let anyone close and the dark circles and pain in his face had masked the thinness of his cheeks. He’d become a ghost of himself without his Jemmy.

***

Hamilton yawned as he joined his husband for breakfast—or for Laurens, dinner.

“I can take time off, Alex,” Laurens said. “I don’t want you spiraling into a depression with everything going on.”

“I’m okay.” Hamilton leaned against him. Despite what he said, tears filled his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. “I miss you,” he sobbed. He’d never liked Laurens working nights but had grown used to it yet the past few months of not having him in bed at night had become torture. Nightmares plagued his sleep and he woke his parents and foster son many nights.

Laurens pushed his chair back and pulled Hamilton onto his lap. “I miss you, too. I’ll take a few days off.”

Hamilton tucked his head against Laurens’ neck but soon looked up at the sound of footsteps.

“Am I interrupting?” Philip asked. He blew a stray curl out of his eyes.

“No, Pip,” Laurens said. “Daddy’s sad so I’m going to stay home for a few days.”

Hamilton rubbed his eyes and stood. “Let me fix your breakfast.”

***

As he walked through the quiet, dark house after everyone had gone to bed and Laurens to work, Hamilton noticed a light on under the door of his dad’s office. He slipped down the hall and opened the door. “Dad?”

Washington glanced up from the photo album opened on his desk.

“I thought you went to bed,” Hamilton said. He sank into his usual chair and drew up his legs.

“Too many memories on my mind, I suppose,” Washington said. He’d aged in those few months. Wrinkles deep on his face, his voice tired, his steps slow.

Hamilton unfolded his legs and leaned over the desk. “What’re you looking at?”

He motioned for his son to drag his chair over. Side by side they looked through the pictures—from faded polaroid’s to fuzzy shots to clear photos—of all the boys the Washington’s had fostered in over thirty years.

“I’d never seen pictures of Lafayette when he was younger,” Hamilton said and found a smile at his wild-haired and lanky brother. A few pages later, he stopped. “You have pictures of me.” He stared at his seventeen-year-old self.

“Of course.” Washington rubbed his son’s back. “I had to sneak them since you wouldn't let me otherwise.”

Hamilton turned the page and fingered the picture of him and his parents at the courthouse on his adoption day. “Ten years ago,” he murmured. “I…” He trailed off not having the strength to speculate where he’d have been in his life otherwise. Not in a life worth living, he was sure, if he’d have even made it past twenty-two.

“I know,” Washington whispered and knew his own life wouldn’t have been as blessed if the volatile redhead hadn’t stumbled his way in and captured Washington’s depressed heart. He squeezed Hamilton’s hand. “You should go to bed. You’ve been taking care of all of us. Get some rest, my boy.”

“Only if you do, too,” Hamilton insisted. He closed the album and stood.

Washington leaned against his son until they parted ways at the top of the stairs. “No bad dreams tonight, Alexander.”

Not sure if his dad was commanding him not to have nightmares or telling him he wouldn’t, Hamilton could only nod. Years later he would realize he never did have another bad dream.

 

A few weeks later after things calmed back down, Hamilton made the usual Saturday night dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. Philip played in the family room making explosion sound effects. The phone rang and Hamilton answered it as he lowered the heat on the stove.

“I’m sorry to bother you on a Saturday evening,” the woman said “but I know you and John have been waiting a long time to hear this. You are next on the waiting list and we have an infant girl ready for adoption.”

It took Hamilton a moment to comprehend having almost forgotten that he and Laurens had finished paperwork to adopt right before Madison passed away.

“Alexander?”

“I’m here,” he mumbled. “Um, yes, let me talk to John.”

“Please, get back to me as soon as you can. I will email you more information.”

Hamilton thanked her and hung up. He stared at the boiling noodles and had processed nothing before his phone rang again. The familiar number of his social worker popped up. “Yes?”

“Philip’s parents just signed the papers to terminate their rights. Philip will be yours to adopt if you and John choose to.”

“Oh.” Hamilton’s heart raced as emotions flooded through him with barely a chance to grasp. “Yes. Wow.” He told her about the little girl they had the opportunity to adopt, too.

“You may have your hands too full for my next bit of news,” she said. “We have two-year-old twin boys in need of fostering. They’re rambunctious.”

“Let me talk to John,” Hamilton said. “I’ll call you right back.”

He hung up and hurried out of the kitchen and shouted upstairs, “Jack!”

Laurens opened the door to their bedroom at the end of the hall. “You okay?”

Hamilton beckoned him downstairs and struggled to explain everything in his giddy excitement.

“You’re telling me,” Laurens said slowly, “that we could be adopting Philip, a baby girl, and fostering two toddlers?”

“Yes!”

A smile spread across Laurens’ face. He kissed his husband. “But what about Thomas?” The glee dimmed in his eyes.

“He’s already decided he would move to Montpelier,” Hamilton said. “More space there for the cats.”

“But that’s only two bedrooms,” Laurens fretted. “I suppose the baby could stay in our room for now.” He pinched his lip watching Hamilton. “You have plans, don’t you?”

“Mom doesn’t use her sewing room much anymore. Perhaps she can put what she needs in Dad’s office and Philip can have his room downstairs once the baby is older.”

“But that’s so far from our room.”

“Philip is seven,” Hamilton said. He rubbed a hand against Laurens’ chest. “Almost eight. He’ll be okay. Plus with you up at odd hours and Dad is always getting up, too, it’s not like someone wouldn’t hear him if there was a problem.”

Laurens nodded, eyes on his husband. “Let’s do this.”

Hamilton embraced him. “I love you.”

Arms secure around his slender frame, Laurens squeezed him tight. “I love you, too. Should we tell Pip?”

“Yes!” Hamilton drew back. “Philip!”

A loud crash rang out from the family room. The men hurried through the kitchen to find the boy staring at the tipped over bookcase and the mess of books and trinkets spilled across the floor.

Hamilton scooped up the boy. “Are you okay? What were doing?”

“Climbing,” mumbled Philip. “Sorry.”

Laurens pushed the bookcase back upright from where it had landed against Washington’s recliner tearing the leather. “As long as you’re not hurt, Pip,” he said.

“I’m fine.” Philip wiggled free of Hamilton’s grasp. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Hamilton knelt down to be eye to eye with the freckled face. “I always give second chances and third chances, even ninety-nine chances.” He kissed Philip’s forehead. “Okay?”

Philip nodded.

Laurens joined them and rested a hand on Hamilton’s shoulder. “Pip, we want to ask you something.”

Taking a deep breath, Hamilton asked, “Philip, would you like to be adopted by us?”

Philip’s brown eyes widened. “Yes!”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome!


End file.
